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LLALLA ROOlvH, 



thomas'sJioSre, esq, 



NEW EDITION, 



BOSTON. 

G. GOODRICH, 

1828. 



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OUI. 

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:TJi 




MEMOIR 



['HOMAS MOORE, ESQ. 



Thomas Moore, Esq. the only son of Mr. Garret 
lore, formerly a respectable merchant in Dublin, 
1 who still resides there, was born May 28, 1780. 

Jehas two sisters; and his infantine days seem to 

ave left the most agreeable impressions on his 
memory; for in an epistle to Jiis eldest sister, dated 
November, 1803, and written from Norfolk in Vir 
ginia, he retraces with delight their chiidiiood, and 
describes the endearments of home, wjth a sensibi- 
lity as exquisite as that which breathes through the 
lines of Cowper, on receiving his mother's picture. 
He acquired the riidimentsofan excellent educa- 
tion under the care of the iate Mr. Samuel White^ 
of Dublin, a gentleman extensively known and re-; 
spected as the early tutor of Sheridan. He evinced 
such talent in early life as determined his father to 
^give him the advantages of a superior education, 
and at the early a^je of fourteen, he was entered a 
stude nt of Trini ty College, Dublin . M r . Moore was 
greatly distinguished while at the Uiii*-ersity, by an 
enthusiastic attachment to the liberty and indepen- 
lence of his country, which he more than once 

iiblicly asserted with uncommon energy and elo- 
quence, and he was equally admired for the splen- 
iour of his classical attainments, and the sociabili 
ly of his disposition. On the 19th November, 1799, 
Mr. Moore entered himself a member of the Honour- 

Sle Society of the Middle Temple, and in the course 



MEMOIR OF 



I 



ot tlje year 1800, before he had completed the 20i 
year of his age, he published his translation of th^ 
'' Odes of Anacreon" into English verse, with notes, 
i'rom whence, in the vocabulary of fashion, he has 
ever since been designated by the appellation of 
Anacreon Moore. So early as his twelfth year he 
appears to have meditated on executing this per- 
formance which, if not a close version, inust be con- 
fessed to be a fascinating one, of this favorite bard. 

Vhe work is introduced by a Greek ode from the 
pen of the Translator, and is dedicated, with per- 
mission, to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. 
When Mr. Moore first came to London his youthful 
appearance was such, that being at a large dinner 
pyriy and getting up to escort the ladies to the draw* 
iijg-room, a French gentleman observed, " Ahl le 
petit bon homme, qui s'en va." Mr. Moore's sub- 
sequent brilliant conversation, however, soon prov- 
ed him to be, though litde of stature, yet, like Gay, 

' in wit, a man."— Assuming the appropriate name 
of Little, our author published in 1801, a volume o f 
original Poems, chiefly amatory. Of the contents of 
this volume it is impossible to speak in terms of un- 

jualified commendation. Many of the poems exhibit 
strong marks of genius, they are the productions of 
an age when the passions very often give a coluring 
too warm to tlie imagination, which may palliate, if 
It cannot excuse, that air of lubricity which pervades 
too many of them. In the same year, his *' Philo- 
isophy of Pleasure" was advertised, but was never 
published. 

Mr. Moore's diffidence of his poetical talents in- 
liuced him to adopt, and with reluctance reject, as 
a motto fortliis work, the quotation from Horace, 

Primuni ego me illorum, quibus dederim esse poetis, 
Excerpam numera; neque enim concludere versus 
Dixeris esse satis — 

and to this very day, although his reputation is so 
well established, hespeaksof himself with his wonted 
Modesly. ^'Whatever fame he might have acquir- 






THOMAS MOORE, ESQ. v 

, (1, fte aUnbuted principally to the verses which he 
had adapted to the delicious strains of Irish melody, 
tiis verses, in themselves, could boast of but little 
merit, but like flies preserved in amber, they were 
esteemed in consequence of the precious materials 
by which they were surrounded." 

Mr. Sheridan, in speaking on the subject of this 
memoir, said, " That there was no man who put so 
►much of his heart in his fancy as Tom Moore : that 
his soul seemed as if it were a particle of fire sepa- 
rated from the Sun, and was always fluttering to get 
back to that source of light and heat." 

Towards the autumn of 1803, Mr. Moore embark- 
ed for Bermuda, where he had obtained the appoint- 
ment of Registrar to the Admiralty. This was a 
patent place, and of a description so unsuitable to 
nis temper of mind, that he soon found it expedieqt 
to fulfil the duties of it by a deputy, with whom, in 
consideration of circumstances, he consented to 
divide the profits accruing from it, and which prov- 
jed wholly unworthy of Mr. Moore's serious atten- 
tion. ''Though curiosity, therefore," says he, " was 
^certainly not the motive of my voyage to Ameri- 
ca, yet it happened that the gratification of curiosity 
WTisthe only advantage which I derived from it." 
"Having remained about a week at New-York," 
!he continues, " where I saw Madame, the half re- 
pudiated wife of Jerome Bonaparte, and felt a slight 
iihock of an earthquake, the only things that par- 
ticularly awakened my attention, I sailed again for 
Norfolk, where I proceeded on my tour northward 
through Williarasburgh, Richmond," &c. In Oc- 
tober, 1804, he quitted America on his return to 
England in the Boston frigate, commanded by Capt. 
Douglass, whom he has highly eulogized for his at- 
tention during the voyage. In 1806 he published 
his remarks on the Manners and Society of Ameri- 
ca, in a work entitled Odes and Epistles. The pre- 
face to this little work has sufiiciently established 
the talent of Mr. Moore as a prose writer. 

The fate of Addison with his Countess Dowagev 



MEMOIR OF 



4' 

)US lov4 



holding out no encouragement for the ambitioiisl 
of Mr. Moore, he wisely and happily allowed his 
good taste to regulate his choice in a wife, and some 
years ago married Miss Dyke, a young lady of great 
personal beauty, most amiable disposition, and ac- 
complished manners, in whose society he passes 
much of his time in retirement near Bath, devoting 
himself chiefly to literary pursuits. His domestic 
happiness has fully satisfied his mind on the doubts 
raised in it by the celebrated proposition of thr Love 
casuists, " An Formosa sit ducenda ?" 

Mr. Moore appears equally to have cultivated a 
taste for music as well as for poesy, and the late 
celebrated Dr. Burney was perfectly astonished at 
his talent, which he emphatically called " peculiarly 
his own." Nor has he neglected those more solid 
attainments which should ever distinguish the well 
bred gentleman, for he is an excellent general scho- 
lar, and particularly well read in the literature of 
the middle ages. liis conversational powers are 
great, and his modest and unassuming manners have 
placed him in the highest rank of cultivated society. 

Our limits will not permit us to exte»'d this brief 
sketch of Erin's favourite Bard, bu. >iie name ^f 
Moore needs not the "foreign aid of ornament/' 
the eloquence of language to set it ofi'. It is in the 
glowing lustre of his luxuriant fancy — in the vivid 
sparklings of his sportive, yet puniient wit — in thr 
lofty untameable spirit of his patriotism, that hi^ 
history is written in letters of light, which like th( 
sacred flame of the Persian devotees, posterity sha! 
preserve with the proud, but hallowed feelings whicl 
immortal genius alone inspires. 



:i^^ 



};' '■' •■ ' ' - 




LLALLA ROOKH 



In the eleventh year of the reign of Aurungzebe. 

ibdalla, king of the lesser Bucharia, a lineal de^ 
scendant from the great Zingis, having abdicated 
the throne in favour of his son, set out on a pil- 
grimage to the shrine of the Prophet; and, pas- 
sing into India through the delightful valley of 
Cashmere, rested for a short time at Delhi on his 
way. He was entertained by Aurungzebe in a style 
of magnificent hospitality, worthy alike of the visit- 
or and the host, and was afterwards escorted vvitli 
the same splendour fo Surat, where he embarked 
for Arabia. During the stay of the royal pilgrim at 
Delhi, a marriage was agreed upon between the 
prince, his son, and the youngest daughter of the 
jraperor, Llalla Rookh ;* — a princess described 

y poets of her time, as more beautiful than Lelia. 

hrine, Dewilde, or any of those heroines whose 
I ames and loves embellish the songs of Persia and 

[indostan. It was intended that the nuptials should 
I 3 celebrated at Cashmere; where the young king, 

3 soon as the cares of empire would permit, wa.s 

t meet, for the first time, his lovely bride, and after 
few months' repose in that enchanting valloy. 

induct her over the snowy hills into Buchari;: 

The day of Llalla Rookh's departure froft; 

! 'elhi was as splendid as sunshine and pageantry 

Duld make it. The bazaars and baths were all co 
. ered with thv richest tapestry ; hundreds of gildec* 
'irges upon the Jumna floated with their bannp' 

* Tulip cheek. 
B 



vi MEMOIR OF 

holding out no encouragement for the ambitious love 
of Mr. Moore, he wisely and happily allowed his 
good taste to regulate his choice in a wife, and some 
years ago married Miss Dyke, a younglady of great 
> personal beauty, most amiable disposition, and ac- 
complished manners, in whose society he passes 
much of his time in retirement near Bath, devoting 
himseU chiefly to literary pursuits. His domestic 
happiness has fully satisfied his mind on the doubtS 
raised in it by the celebrated proposition of thr Lov J 
casuists, " An Formosa sit ducenda?" 

Mr. Moore appears equally to have cultivated a 
taste for music as well as for poesy, and the late 
celebrated Dr. Burney was perfectly astonished at 
his talent, which he emphatically called " peculiarly 
his own." Nor has he neglected those more solid 
attainments which should ever distinguish the well 
bred gentleman, for he is an excellent general scho- 
lar, and particularly well read in the literature of 
the middle ages. His conversational powers are 
great, and his modest and unassuming manners have 
placed him in the highest rank of cnltivated society. 

Our limits will not permit us to extend this brief 
sketch of Erin's favourite Bard, bu A\e name ^f 
Moore needs not the "foreign aid of ornament/' 
the eloquence of language to set it off. It is in the 
glowing lustre of his luxuriant fancy — in the vivid 
sparklings of his sportive, yet punizent wit — in th^ 
lofty untameable spirit of his patriotism, that hii 
history is written in letters of light, which like thai 
sacred flame of the Persian devotees, posterity shalll 
preserve with the proud, but hallowedfeelings whicbf 
immortal genius alone inspires. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



In the eleventh year of the reign of Aurungzebe, 
ibdalla, king of the lesser Bucharia, a lineal de 
scendant from the great Zingis, having abdicated 
the throne in favour of his son, set out on a piU 
^Timage to the shrine of the Prophet; and, pas- 
.^ing into India through the deHghtful valley of 
Cashmere, rested for a short time at Delhi on his 
way. He was entertained by Aurungzebe in a stylo 
of magnificent hospitality, worthy alike of the visit 
or and the host, and was afterwards escorted wiiJ, 
the same splendour to Surat, where he embarked 
or Arabia. During the stay of the royal pilgrim .u 
Oelhi, a marriage was agreed upon between tht 
)rince, his son, and the youngest daughter of tht 
raperor, Llalla Rookh ;* — a princess described 
y poets of her time, as more beautiful than Leiia; 
hrine, Dewilde, or any of those heroines whose 
. imes and loves embellish the songs of Persia an,: 
[indostan. It was intended that the nuptials shoul*; 
; 3 celebrated at Cashmere; where theyoun^ kbig^ 
5 soon as the cares of empire would permit, was 
» meet, for the first time, his lovely bride, and afte? 
* few months' repose in that enchanting vallo> 
onduct her over the snowy hills into Buchaii 
The day of Llalla Rookh's departure frou: 
\ "elhi was as splendid as sunshine and pageantry 
ould make it. The bazaars and baths were all oo 
. 3red with thv richest tapestry ; hundreds of gildec* 
'..irgesupon the Jumna floated with their bannp' 

* Tulip cheek. 
5 



22 LLALLA ROOKII. 

shining in the water ; while through tlie streets 
ijroups of beautiful children went strewing the most 
delicious flowers around, as in that Persian festival 
called the Scattering of the Roses; * till every part 
of the city was as fragrant as if a^caravan of musk 
from Khoten nad passed through it. The princess, 
having taken leave of her kind father, who at part- 
ing hung a cornelian of Yemen round her neck, on 
winch was inscribed a verse from the Koran, — and 
having sent a considerable present to the Fakirs, 
who kept up the Perpetual Lamp in her sister'; 
tomb, meekly ascended rhe palankeen prepared foi 
iier ; and, while Aurungzebe stood to take the lasi. 
jiook from his balcony, the procession moved slowly 
on the road to Lahore. 

Seldom had the Eastern world seen a cavalcadr. 
.so superb. From the gardens in the suburbs to the 
mperial palace, it was one unbroken line of splen- 
dour. The gallant appearance of the Rajahs and 
Mogul lords, distinguished by those insignia of the 
emperor's favour, the feathers of ihe egret cf Cash- 
>nere in iheir turbans, and the small silver-rimmeci 
kettle-drums at the boughs of their saddles ; — ihc 
riostly armour of their cavaliers, who vied on thiF 
occasion, with the guards of the great Keder Khan, 
m the brightness of their silver battle axes and the 
massiness of their mnces of gold; the glittering of 
the gilt pine apples on the tops of the palankeens - 
the embroidered trappings of the elephants, bear- 
«n<^on their backs small turrets, in the shape of little 
antique temples, within which the ladies of Llalla* 
RooKH hiy, as it were, enshrined ; the rose-colour- 
ed veils of the princess's own sumptuous litter, at 
the front of which a fair young female slave sat fan- 
ning her through the curtains, with feathers of the 
Argus pheasant's wing ; and the lovely troop of 
Tartarian and Cashmenan maids of honour, whona 
the young king had sent to accompany his bride ' 
and who rode on each side of the litter, upon sroa' 

^ Gul Reazee. ! ' 



i 



■yy-:^:_ 



LLALLA ROOKH, 23 



Arabian horses ; — all was brilliant, tasteful and 
magnificent, and pleased even the critical and fasti- 
dious Fadladeen, Great Nazir or Chamberlain of 
the Haram, who was borne in his palankeen imme- 
diately after the princess, and considered himself 
not the least important personage of the pageant. 

Fadladeen wasajudge of every thing, from the 
pencilling of a Circassian's eye-lids to the deepest 
questions of science and literature ; from the mix- 
ture of a conserve of rose-leaves to the composition 
of an epic poem ; and such influence had his opi- 
nion upon the various tastes of the day, that all the 
cooks and poets of Delhi stood in awe of him. His 
political conduct and opinions were founded upon 
ihat line of Sadi, '' Should the prince at noon day 
sajs it is night, declare that you behold the moon 
and stars." And his zeal for religion, of which 
Aurungzebe was a munificent protector, was about 
as disinterested as that of the goldsmith who fell in 
love with the diamond eyes of the idol of Jagher- 
naut. 

During the first days of their journey, Llalla 
RooKH, who had passed all her life within the sha- 
dow of the royal gardens of Delhi, found enough 
in the beauty of the scenery through which they 
passed to interest her mind and delight her imagi- 
nation : and, when at evening, or. in the heat of 
the day, they turned oif from the high road to those 
:etirecl and romantic places which had been select- 
id for her encampments, sometimes on the banks 
of a small rivulet, as clear as the waters of the Lake 
of Pearl ; sometimes under the sacred shade of a 
Banyan tree, from \^hich the view opened upon a 
glade covered with antelopes ; and often in those 
hidden, embowered spots, described by one from 
the Isles of the West, as " places of melancholy, 
delight, and safety, where all the company around 
vas wild peacocks and turtle-doves ;" — she felt a 
harm in these scenes, so lovely and so new to her, 

hich, for a time, made her indifferent to every 

ler amusement. But Llalla Rookh was young>- 



-1 LLALLA llOOKHi 

and the young love variety ; nor could the conver- 
sation of her ladies and the Great Chamberlain, 
bADLADEEN,(the Only persons, of course, admitted 
to herpavihon,) sufficiently enliven those many va 
cant hours, which were devoted neither to the pil- 
low nor the palankeen. There was a litde Persian 
slave who suni? sweetly to the vina, and who now 
and then lulled the princess to sleep \^ith the an- 
cient ditties of her country, about the loves of VVa- 
mak and Ezra, the fair haired Zal and his mistress 
itodahver; not forgetting the combat of Rustam 
with the terrible White Demon. At other times 
she \vas amused by those graceful dancing girls of 
Delhi, who had been permitted by the Bramins of 
the great Pagoda to attend her, much to the horrof 
ol the good mussulnian Fadladeen, who could sel 
nothing graceful or agreeable in idolaters, and td 
whom the very tinkling of their golden ankiets wa3 
an abomination. . 

But these and many other diversions were reJ 
peated till they lost all their charm, and the nighti 
and noon-days were beginning to move heavilyl 
when at length, it was recollected that, among thel 
attendants sent by the bridegroom was a young po^ 
et of Cashmere, much celebrated throughout th^ 
Talley for his manner of reciting the stories of thei 
East, on whom his royal master had conferred th^ 
privilege of being admitted to the pavilion of the'' 
princess, that he might help to beguile the tedious- 
ness of the journey by some of his most agreeable 
recitals. At thementionof a poet Fadladeen ele- 
vated his critical eye-brows, and, having refreshed 
his faculties with a dose of that delicious opium 
which is distilled from the black poppy of the The- 
bais, gave orders for the minstrel to be forthwith in- 
troduced into the presence. 

The princess, who had once in her life seen a 
poet from behind the screens of gauze in her fa- 
ther's hall, and had conceived from that specimen 
no very favourable ideas of the cast, expected but 
'ittle in thia new exhibition to interest her j— she fel' 



■4i 



LLALLA ROOKH. 25 



incJined however to alter her opinion on the very 
first appearance of Feramorz. He was a youth 
about Llalla Rookh's own age, and graceful as 
that idol of women, Crishna,* such as he appears 
to their young imaginations, heroic, beautiful, breath- 
ing music from his very eyes, and exalting the reli- 
gion of his worshippers into love. His dress was 
simple, yet not without some marks of costliness, 
and the ladies of the princess were not long in dis- 
covering that the cloth, which encircled his high 
Tartarian cap, was of the most delicate kind that 
the yhawl-goats of Tibet supply. Here and there, 
too, over his vest, which was confined by a flower- 
ed girdle of Kashan, hung strings of fine pearl, dis- 
posed with an air of studied negligence ; nor did 
the exquisite embroidery of his sandals escape the 
observation of these fair critics; who, however 
they might give way to Fadladeen upon the unim- 
portant topics of religion and government, had the 
spirits of martyrs in every thing relatino^ to such 
momentous matters as jewels and embroidery. 

For the purpose of relieving the pauses of reci- 
tation by music, the young Cashmerian held in his 
hand a kitnr, such as, in old times, the Arab maids 
of the West used to listen to by moonlight in the 
gardens of the Alhambra, and having premised, 
with much humility, that the story he was about 
lo relate was founded on the adventures of that 
Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, who, in the year of 
the Hegira 163, created such alarm throughout the 
Eastern empire, made an obeisance to the princess, 
and thus began : — 

* The Indian Apollo. 



1 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



THE VE[LED PROPHET OF 
KHORASSAN. 



In that delightful province of the sun, 
The first of Persian lands he shines upon, 
Where all the loveliest children of his beam, 
Flowrets and fruits blush over every stream, 
And, fairest of all streams, the Murga roves, 
Among Merou's t bright palaces and groves ; — 
There, on that throne, to which the blind belief 
Of millions rais'd him, sat the Prophet-Chief, 
The Great Mokanna. O'er his features hung 
The Veil, the silver Veil, which he had flung, 
In mercy there, to hide from mortal sif?ht 
His dazzling brow, till man could bear its light. 
For, far less luminous, his votaries said. 
Were ev'n the gleams, miraculously shed 
O'erMoussA'st cheek, when down the mount he 

trod. 
All glowing from the presence of his God ! 

* Khorassan signifies, in the old Persian language, 
province, or region of the sun. Sir W, Jones. 
t One of the royal cities of Khorassan. J Moses. 



'^h ' 



LLALLA llOOKH. 

On either side, wiih ready hearts and hands, 
His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; 
Young fire-eyed disputants, who deem their swords, 
On points of faith, more eloquent than words; 
And such their zeal, there's not a youth with brand 
Uplifted there, but, at the Chief's command, 
Would make his own devoted heart its sheath, 
And bless the lips that doom'd so dear a death ! 
In hatred to the Caliph's hue of night,* 
Their vesture, helms and all, is snowy white ; 
Their weapons various; — some equipp'd for speed. 
With javelins of the light Kathaian reed; 
Or bows of Buffalo horn, and shining quivers 
Fill'd with the stems t that bloom on Iran's rivers; 
While some, for war's more terrible attacks. 
Wield the huge mace and ponderous battle-axe ; 
.And, asthev wave aloft in morning's beam 
The milk-white plumage of their helms, they seerii 
Like a chenar-^ree grove, when winter throws 
O'er all its tufted heads his feathering snows. 

Between the porphyry pillars, that uphold 
The rich moresque-work of the roof of gold, 
Aloft the Haram's curiain'd galleries rise, 
Where, through the silken net-work, glancing eyes 
From lime to time, like sudden gleams that glow 
Through autumn clouds, shine o'er the pomp be 

low. — 
What impious tongue, ye blushing saints, would 
dare 

* Black was the colour adopted by the Caliphs oi 
the house of Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and 
standards. 

t Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Per- 
-ians. 



.8 LLALLA ROOKH. 



I 



To hint that aught but Heav'n had plac'd y( 

there ? 
Or that the loves of this light world could bind 
In their gross chain, your Prophet's soaring mind ? 
No — wrongful thought! — commission'd from above 
I'o people Eden's bowers with shapes of love, 
Creatures so bri<?ht, that the same lips and eyes 
They wear on earth will serve in Paradise) 
There to recline among Heav'n's native maids, 
And crown th' Elect with bliss that never fades ! — 
Well hath the Prophet-Chief his bidding done : 
And every beauteous race beneath the sun, 
From those who kneel at Brahma's burning founts, 
To the fresh nymphs bounding o'er Yemen' 

mounts ; 
From Persia's eyes of full and fawn-like ray, 
To the small, half-shut glances of Kathay ;t 
And Georgia's bloom and Azab's darker smiles, 
\nd the gold ringlets of the Western Isles ; 
All, all are there , — each land its flower hath given. 
To form that fair young nursery for heaven I 

But why this pageant now ? this arm'd array? 
What triumph crowds the rich Divan to-day 
With turban'd heads, of every hue and race, 
Bowing before that veil'd and awful face, 
Like tulip-beds, of differenf shapes and dyes, 
Bending beneath th'invisible west-wind's sighs ! 
What new-made mystery now, for faith to sign, 
And blood to seal, as genuine and divine, — 
What dazzling mimickry of God's own power 

* The burning fountains of Brahma near Chitto- 
^ong, esteemed as holy. Turner, 
t China. 



Mi^.. 



LLALLA ROOKU. 2[^ 

Hath the bold Prophet plann'd to grace this hour? 
Not such the pageant now, though not less proud,— 
Yon warrior youth, advancing from the crowd, 
With silver bow, with belt of broider'd crape, 
And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape. 
So fiercely beautiful in form and eye, 
Like war's wild planet in a summer's sky : — 
That youth to-day, — a proselyte, worth hordes 
Of cooler spirits and less practis'd swords, — 
Is come to join, all bravery and belief, 
The creed and standard of the heav*n-sent Chief. 
Though few his years, the West already knows 
Young Azim's lame ; — beyond th'Olympian snowSj 
Ere manhood darken'd o'er his downy cheek, 
O'erwhelm'd in fight and captive to the Greek,^ 
He linger'd there, till peace dissolved his chains ; 
Oh ! who could, ev'n in bondage, tread the plain? 
Of glorious Greece, nor feel his spirit rise 
Kindling within him ? who, with heart and eye?^ 
Could walk where liberty had been, nor see 
The shining foot-prints of her Deity, 
Nor feel those god-like breathings in the air, 
Which mutely told her spirit had been there? 
Not he, that youthful warrior, — no, too well 
, For his soul's quiet work'd th' awakening spell 
And now, returning to his own dear land, 
Full of those dreams of good that, vainly grand. 
Haunt the young heart; — proud views of human- 
kind, 
Of men to gods exalted and refin'd ; — 

■ In the war of the Caliph Mohadi against thr. 
fjmpress Irene, for an account of which v. Gibbon^ 
vol, X. 

B2 



oU LLALLA ROOKH. 

False views, like that horizon's fair deceit, 
Where earth and heav'n but see7n, alas, to meet!—' 
Soon as he heard an arm divine was raisM 
To right the nations, and beheld, emblaz'd 
On the white fla^f Mokanna's host unfurl'd. 
Those words of sunshine, "Freedom to the World.' 
At once his faith, his sword, his soul obey'd 
Til' inspiring summons ; every chosen blade, 
Tliat fought beneath that banner's sacred text, 
Seem'd doubly edg'd, for this world and the next; 
And ne'er did Faith with her smooth bandage bind 
Eyes more devoutly willing to be blind, 
In virtue's cause ; — never was soul inspir'd 
With livelier trust in what it most desir'd, 
Than his. th'enthusiast there, who kneeling, pale, 
With pious awe, before that silver Veil, 
Believes the form, to which he bends his knee. 
Some pure, redeeming angel, sent to free. 
This fetter'd world from every bond and stain. 
And bring its primal glories back again ! 

Low as young AziM knelt, that motley crowd 
Of all earth's nations sunk the knee and bow'd. 
With shouts of " Alla!" echoing long and loud ; 
While high in air, above the Prophet's head, 
Hundreds of bannprs, to the sunbeam spread, 
Wav'd, like the wings of tiie white birds that fan 
The flying throne of star-taught Soliman. 
Then thus he spoke : — ** Stranger, though new thr 

frame 
•' Thy soul inhubiisnow, I've track'd its flame 
' For many an age,* in every chance and change 

* The transmigration of souls was one of his doc- 
■'ines. v. lyHerbcht. 






LLALLA ROOKH. 31 

" Of that existence, through whose varied range, 
"As through a torch-race, where, from hand to 

hand, 
"The flying youtiis transmit their shining brand, — 
"From frame to frame the unextinguish'd soul 
" Rapidly passes, till it reach the goal ! 

*' Nor think 'tis only the gross spirits, warm'd 
" With duskier fire, and for earth's medium form'd, 
" That run this course : beings, the most divine, 
** Thus deign through dark mortality to shine. 
*' Such was the essence that in Adam dwelt, 
'* To which all heav'n, except the Proud One 

kneh;'' 
''Such the refin'd intelligence that glow'd 
'* In Moussa's frame ; — and, thence descending, 

flow'd 
'* Through many a prophet's breast; — in Issa. t 

shone, 
" And in Mohammed burn'd; till, hastening on, 
'* As a bright river that, from fall to fall 
*' In many a maze descending, bright through all, 
*' Finds some fair region where, each labyrinth 

past, 
" In one full lake of light it rests at last 1 
" That holy spirit, settling calm and free 
*' From lapse or shadow, centres all in me !" 

Again, throughout th' assembly at these words. 
Thousands of voices rung ; the warriors' swords, 

* " And when we said unto the angels, Worship 
^' Adam, they all worshipped him except Eblis, (Lu- 
cifer,) who refused," The Koran, chap. ii. 
t Jesus. 



32 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Were pointed up to heav'n; a sudden wind 
In th' open banners piay'd, and from behind 
Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen 
The Haram's loveliness, white hands were seen 
Waving embroider'd scarves, whose motion gave 
A perfume forth ; — like those the Hourig wave 
When beckoning to their bowers th' immortal 
brave. 

" But these," pursued the Chief, *' are truths 

" sublime, 
*' That claim a holier mood and calmer time 
" Than earth allows us now ; — this word must first 
"The darkling prison-house of mankind burst, 
" Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in 
" Her wakenintf day lijiHt on a world of sin! 
" But then, celestial warriors, then, when all 
" Earth's sJirines and thrones before our banner 

" fall ; 
'' When the glad slave shall at these feet lay down 
" His broken chain, the tyrant lord his crown, 
" The priest his book, the conqueror his wreaih, 
*' And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath 
" Shall like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze 
*' Thai whole dark pile of human mockeries ; — 
** Then shall the reign of mind commence on earth 
" And, siariing fresh, as from a second birth, — 
" Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, 
" Shall walk transparent, like some holy thing! 
" Then, too, your prophet from his angel brow 
" Shall cast the Veil thatlildes its splendours now, 
'* And gladden'd earth shall, through her wideex- 

'* panse, 
^' Bask in the glories of this countenance ! 






LLALLA ROOKH. 33 

" Forthee, young warrior welcome ! — thou hast yet 
" Some task to learn, some frailties to forget, 
"Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can 

wave ; — 
*' But, once my own, mine all till in the grave !" 
The pomp is at an end, — the crowds are gone — 
Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone 
Of that deep voice, which thrili'd like Alla's own! 
The young all dazzled by the plumes and lances. 
The glittering throne, and Hiram's half-caught 

glances ; 
The old deep pondering on the promis'd reign 
Of peace and trutii; and all the female train 
Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze 
A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze! 

But there was one, among the chosen maids 
Who blush'd behind the gallery's silken shades. 
One, to whose soul the pageant of to-day 
Has been like death ; — you saw lier pale dismay, 
Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst 
Of exclamation from her lip.-, when first 
She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, 
Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne. 

Ah Zelica. ! there luas a time, when bliss 
Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his; 
When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air 
In wliich he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer! 
When round him hung such a perpetual spell, 
Whate'er he did, none ever did so well. 
Too happy days! when, if he touch'd a flower 
Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour ; 
When thou didst study him, till every tone 



•-^4 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And gesture and dear look became thy own,-- 
Thy voice like his, the changes of his face 
in thine reflected with still lovelier grace, 
Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught _ 
With twice th' aerial sweetness it had brought! ■ 
Yet now he comes— brighter than even he ■ 

E'er beamM before,— but ah ! not bright for thee; 
No— dread, unlook'd for, like a visitant 
From th' other world, he comes as if to haunt 
Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight, 
Long lost to all but memory's aching sight :— 
Sad dreams! as when the Spirit of our youth 
Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth 
And innocence once ours, and leads us back, 
In mournful mockery, o'^r the shining track 
Of our young life, and pomts out every ray 
Of hope and peace we've losiiipon the way I 

Once liappy pair!— in proud Bokhara's groves, 
Who had not htard of theii first youthful loves? 
Born by that ancient flood,* which from its spring 
In the Dark Mountains swiftly wandering, 
Enrich'd by every pil^mm brook that shines 
With relics from BucHARfA's ruby mines, 
And, lending to the Caspian Iialf its strength. 
In the cold lake oJEagles .«inks at length ;— 
There, on the bank? of that bright river born, 
The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, 

* The Amoo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or 
L>ark Mountams, and runnmg nearly from cast to 
west, splits into two branches, one of which falls 
into the C-aspian sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, 
or the Lake of Eagles. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 'Sh 

Bless'd not the waters as they murraur'd by, 
With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh 
And virgin glance of first affection cast ' 

Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass'd I 
But war disturb'd this vision — far away 
From her fond eyes, summon'd to join th' array 
Of Persia's warriors on the hills of Thrace, 
The youth exchang'd his sylvan dwelling place 
For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash : 
His Zelica's sweet glances for the flash 
Of Grecian wild-fire, and love's gende chains 
For bleeding bondage on Byzantium's plains. 

Month after month, in widowhood of soul 
Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll 
Their suns away — but, ah! how cold and dim 
Ev'n summer suns, when not beheld with him ! 
From time to lime ill-omen'd rumours came, 
(Like spirit-tongues, muttering the sick-man's name 
Just ere he dies, — ) at length those sounds of dread 
Fell withering on her soul, ** Aziaiis dead !" 
Oh! grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate 
First leaves the young heart lone and desolate 
In the wide world, without that only tie 
For which it lov'd to live or fear'd to die ; — 
Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoker 
Since the sad day its master-chord wns broken ! 

Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such. 
Ev'n reason sunk bliglited beneath its touch ; 
And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose 
Above the first dead jiressure of its woes, 
Though health and bloom return'd, fho delicai'- 
chain 



36 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Of thought, once tangled, never clear'd again. 
Warm, lively, soft as in youth's happiest day, 
The mind was still all there, but turn'd astray ;— 
A wandering bark, upon whose patli-way shone 
All stars of heav'n, except the guiding one! 
Again she smiPd, nay, much and brightly srail'd, 
But 'twas a lustre, strange, unreal, wild; 
And when she sung to her lute's touching strain, 
'Twas like the notes, half extacy, half pain, 
The bulbul* utters, ere her soul depart. 
When, vanquish'd by some minstrel's powerful art, 
She dies upon the lute whose sweetness broke her 
heart ! 

Such was the mood in which that mission found 

Young Zelica, — that mission, which around 

The Eastern world, in every region blest 

With woman'? smile, sought out its loveliest. 

To grace that galaxy of lips and eyes, 

Which the Veil'd Prophet destin'd for the skies !- 

And such quick welcome as a spark receives 

Dropp'd on abed of autumn's wither'd leaves, 

Did every tale of these enthusiasts find 

Tnthe wild maiden's sorrow blighted mind. 

AH fire at once the madd'ning zeal she caught ; — 

Elect of Paradise! blest, rapturous thought; 

Predestin'd bride, in heaven's eternal dome, 

Of some brave youth — ha ! durst they say *' ofsome V' 

^0 — of the one, one only object trac'd 

In her heart's core too deep to be effac'd ; 

The one whose memory, fresh as life, istwin'd 

With ev'ry broken link of her lost mind ,' 

^ The Nightingale 



^vmHH^' 



LLALLA KOOKH. 37 

ose image lives, though reason's self be wrecked. 
Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect! 

Alas, poor Zelica! it needed all 
The fantasy, which held thy mind in thrall, 
To see in that gay Haram's glowing maids 
A sainted colony for Eden's shades; 
Or dream that he, — of whose unholy flame 
Thou wert too soon the victim, — shining came 
From Paradise, to people its pure sphere 
With souls like thine, which he hath ruin'd here ■ 
JNo — liad not reason's light totally set. 
And left thee dark, thou had'st an amulet 
In the lov'd image, graven on thy heart. 
Which would have sav'd thee from the tempter's art, 
And kept alive, in all its bloom of breath. 
That purity, whose fading is love's death ! — 
But loHt, inflpm'd, — a restless zeal took place 
Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace ; 
First of the Prophet's lavourites, proudly first 
In zeal and charms, — too well th' impostor nurs'd 
Her soul's delirium, in whose active flame, 
Thus lighting up a young, luxuriant frame 
He saw more potent sorceries to bind 
To this dark yoke the spirit-? of mankind, 
Moresubde chains than hell itself e'er twin 'd. 
No art was spar'd, no witchery ; — all the skill 
His demons taught him wasemploy'd to fill 
Her mind with gloom and extacy by turns — 
That gloom, through which frenzy but fiercer burns ; 
That extacy, which from the depth of sadness 
Glares like the maniac's moon, whose light is mad- 
ness ! 



1 



38 LLALLA ROOKH. 

'Twas from a brilliant banquet, where the sound 
Of poesy and music breath'd around, 
Together picturing to her mind and ear 
The glories of that heav'n, her destinM sphere, 
Where all was pure, where every stain that lay 
Upon the spirit's light should pass away, 
And, realizing more than youthful love 
E'er wish'd or dreamM, she should for ever rove 
Where all was pure, where every stain that lay 
Upon the Spirit's light should pass away. 
And, realizing more than youthful love 
E'er wish'd or dream'd, she should forever rove 
Through fields of fragrance by her Azim's side, m 
His own bless'd, purified, eternal bride! M 

' Twas from a scene, a witching trance like tliis 
He hurried her away yet breathing bliss, 
To the dim charnel house ; through all its steams 
Of damp and death, led only by those gleams 
Which foul corruption lights, as with design 
To show the gay and proud she too can shine !— 
And, passing on through upright ranlts of dead. 
Which to the maiden, double craz'd by dread, 
Seem'd, through the bluish death-light round them 

cast, 
To move their lips in muttering as she pass'd — 
There, in that awful place, when each had quaff'< 
And pledg'd in silence such a fearful draught, 
Such— oh ! the look and taste of that red bowl 
Will haunt her till she dies—he bound her soul 
By a dark oath, in hell's own language fram'd, 
Never, while earth his mystic presence claUn'd, 
While the blue arch of day hung o'er them both. 
Never, by that all imprecating oath, 



I 






LLALLA ROOKH. 39 

In joy or sorrow from his side to sever. — 
She swore, and the wide charnel echoed, " never, 
never!" 

From that dread hoar, entirely, >viidly given 
To him and— she believM, lost maid ! — to heaven ; 
Her brain, her heart her passions all inflamM, 
How proud she stood, when in full Haram nam'd 
The Priestess of the Faith '.—how flash'd her eyes 
With light, alas ! that was not of the skies, 
When round, in trances only less than hers, 
She saw the Haram kneel, her prostrate worship- 
pers! 
Well might Mokanna think that form alone 
Had spells enough to make the world his own : — 
Light, lovely limbs, to which the spirit's play 
Gave motion, airy as the dancing spray, 
Whei! from its stem the small bird vvings away ! 
Lips in whose rosy labyrinth, when she smil'd, 
The soul was lost ; and blusiies, swift and wild 
As are the momentary meteors sent 
Across th' uncalm^ but beauteous firmament. 
And then her look I — oh ! where's the heart so wise. 
Could unbewilderM meet those matchless eyes ? 
Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal, 
Like those of angels, just before their fall ; 
Now shadow'd with the shames of earth — now crost 
By glimpses of the Heav'n her heart had lost ; 
In every glance there broke without controul, 
The flashes of a bright but troubled soul. 
Where sensibility still wildly piay'd, 
Like lightning, round the ruins it had made ' 



40 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And such was now young Zelica— so chang'i 
From her who, some years since, delighted rang'd 
The almond groves, that shade Bokhara's tide, 
All life and bliss, with Azfiviby her side! 
So alter'd was she now, this festal day, ' 

When, 'mid the proud Divan's dazzling array, 
The vision of that youth, whom she had lov'd, 
And wept as dead, before her breath'd and mov'd ;— 
When— bright, she thought, as if from Eden's track 
Bui half-way trodden, he had wander'd back 
Again to earth, glistening with Eden's light — 
Her beauteous Azim shone before her sight. 

Oh Reason ! who shall say what spells renew, 
When least we look for it, thy broken clew ! 
Through what small vistas o'er the darkened brain 
Thy intellectual day-beam bursts again ; 
And bow, like forts, to which beleaguerers win 
Unhop'd-for entrance through some friend within, 
One clear idea, waken'd in the breast 
By memory's ma£(ic, lets in all the rest! 
Would it were thus, unhappy girl, with thee! 
But, though light came, it came but partially ; 
Enough to show the maze, in which thy sense 
Wander'd about, — but not to guide it thence ; 
Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave, 
But not to point the harbour which might save. 
Hours of delight and peace, long left behind, 
With that dear form came rushirig^ o'er he» mind ; 
But, oh ! to think how deep her soul had gone 
In shame and falsehood since those moments shone; 
And, then, her oath — ^/ighe madness lay again, 
And, shuddering, back she sunk into her chain 
Of mental darkness, as if blest to flee 



LLALLA ROOKtt. 

From lightj whose every glimpse was agony ! 
Yet, one relief this glance of former years 
Brought, mingled with its pain — tears, floods of 

tears, 
Long frozen at her heart, but now like rills 
Let loose in spring-time from the snowy hills, 
And gushing warm, after a sleep of frost, 
Through valleys where their flow had long been 
^ lost! , 

Sad and subdued, for the first time her frame 
Trembled with horror, when the summons came 
(A summons proud and rare, which all bCit she, 
And she, till now, had heard with exstacy,) 
To meet Mokanna at his place of prayer, 
fA garden oratory, cool and fair. 
By the stream's side, where still at close of day 
The Prophet of the Veil retired to pray ; 
Sometimes alone — but, oftener far, with one, 
One chosen nymph to share his orison. 

Of late none found such favour in his sight 
As the young priestess ; and though, since tha' 

night 
When the death-caverns echoed every tone 
Of the dire oath that made her all his own, 
Th' impostor, sure of his infatuate prize. 
Had, more than once, thrown off his soul's dis- 
guise. 
And utterM such unheav'nly, monstrous things. 
As ev'n across the desperate wanderings 
Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out, 
Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt ; 
Yet zeal, ambition, her tremendous vow, 
The thought, still haunting h'^r, of that bright brov 



42 LLALLA ROOKIJ. 

Whose blaze, as yet from mortal eye concealM, 
Would soon, proud triumph ! be to her revealM,' 
To her alone i—and then the hope most dear, 
Most wild of all, that her transgression here 
Was but a passage through earth's grosser fire, 
From which the spirit would at last aspire, 
Ev'n purer than before,— as perfumes rise 
Through flame and smoke, most welcome to th 

skies — 
And that when Azim's fond, divine embrace 
Should circle her in heav»n, no darkening trace 
Would on that bosom he once lov'd remain. 
But all be bright, be pure, be his again ! 
These were the wildering dreams, whose curst de 

ceit 
Had chain'd her soul beneath the tempter's feet ' 
And made her think ev'n damning falsehood sweet ' 
But now that shape whicli had appall'd her view. 
That semblance— oh how terrible, if true !— 
Which came across her frenzy's full career 
With shock of consciousness, cold, deep, severe 
As when in northern seas, at midnight dark, 
An isle of ice encounters some swift bark 
And, startling all its wretches from their sleep, 
By one cold impulse hurls them to the deep : 
^So came that shock not frenzy's self could bear 
And waking up each long lulled image there ' 
Rntdieck'd her headlong soul, to sink it 'in des- 
pair! 

Wan and dejected, through the evening dusl* 
^he now went slowly to that small kiosk, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

iVhere, pondering alone his impious schemes,. 

VIoKANNA waited her — too wrapt in dreams 

Df the fair ripening future's rich success, 

To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless, 

That sat upon his victim's downcast brow. 

Or mark hwv slow her step, how alter'd now 

From the quick, ardent priestess, whose light 

I bound 

Came like a spirit's o'er th' unechoing ground, — 

From that wild Zelica, whose every glance 

Was thrilling fire, whose every thought a trance I 

Upon his couch the Veiled Mokanna lay. 
While lamps around — not such as lend their ray, 
Glimmering and cold, to those who nightly pray 
In holyKoom, * or Mecca's dim arcades,— 
Butbrilhant, soft, such light as lovely maids 
Look loveliest in, shed their luxurious glow 
Upon his mystic Veil's white glittering flow. 
Beside him, 'stead of beads and books of pray'r, 
'jWhich the world fondly thought he mused oi^ 

there, 
Stood vases, fill'd with Kishmee's t golden wine, 
And the red weepings of the Shiraz vine; 
Of which his curtain'd lips full many a draught 
Took zealously, as if each drop they quafPd, 
Like Zemzem's spring of holiness, t had power 

* The cities of Com [or Koom] and Cashan arc 
lull of mosques, mausoleums, and sepulchres of the 
descendants of Ali, the saints of Persia. Chardin- 

t An island in the Persian gulf, celebrated for its 
white wine. 

X The miraculous well at Mecca, so called, Sale, 
from the murmunng of its waters. 



44 LLALLA ROOKH. 

To freshen the soul's virtues into flower ! 

And still he drank and ponder' d — nor could see 

Th'approaching maid, eodeep his reverie; 

At length, with fiendish laugh, like that which 

broke « 

From Eblis at the fall of man, he spoke : m 

'* Yes, ye vile race, for hell's amusement given, -■ 
'''Too mean for earth, yet claiming kin wilh hea 

ven; 
" God's images, forsooth ! — such gods as he 
" Whom India serves, the monkey deity; * 
*• Ye creatures of a breath, proud things of clay, 
" To whom if Lucifer, as grandams say, 
" Refus'd, though atthe forfeit of heaven's light, 
"To bend in worship, Lucifer was right! — 
" Soon shall I plant this foot upon the neck 
*'0f your foul race, and without fear or check, 
" Luxuriating in hate, avenge my shame, 
** My deep-felt, long-nurst loathing of man's name 
" Soon, at the head of myriads, blind and fierce 
'•As hooded falcons, through the universe 
''I'll sweep my darkening, desolating w^ay, 
* Weak man my instrument, curst man my prey ! 

** Ye wise, ye learn'd, who grope your dull w;r 

on, 
'• By the dim twinkling gleams of ages gone, 
" Like superstitious thieves, wjio think the light 
'^ From dead mens' marrow guides them best ;; 

night ! t 

* The god Hannaman. 

t A kind of lantern formerly used by robbery 
.ailed the Hand of Glory, the candle for which wo^ 



W::T ' :!' 



LLALLA ROOKH. 45 

Ye shall liave honours, — wealth,— , yes, sages, 

"yes — 
**1 know, grave fools, your wisdom's nothingness : 
"Undazzled it can tract yon starry sphere, 
**But a gilt stick, a bauble blinds it here. 
"How I shall laugh when trump6tted along, 
"In lying speech, and still more lying song, 
'*By these learn'd slaves, the meanest of ihe 

"throng; 
*^ Their wits bought up, their wisdom shrunk so 
• "small, 

" A sceptre's puny point can wield it all ? 
" Ye too, believers of incredible creeds, 
"Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it 

breeds ; 
" Who, bolder even than Nemrod, think to rise 
"By nonsense heap'd on nonsense to the skies; 
"Ye shall have miracles, aye, sound ones too, 
"Seen, heard, attested, every thing — but true 
''Your preaching zealots, too inspir'd to seek 
** One grace of meaning for the things they speak ^ 
" Your martyrs ready to shed out their blood 
'* For truths too heavenly to be understood ; 
" And your state priests, sole venders of the lore, 
" That works salvation : as on Ava's shore, 
" Wliere none but priests are privileged to trade 
" In that best marble of which gods are made ;* 
" They shall have mysteries— aye, precious stuff 
"For rogues to thrive by— mysteries enough; 

made of the fat of a dead malefactor. This, how- 
ever, was rather a western than an eastern am^r. 

* Symei^ Ava, vol. ii. p. 3T6» 
C 



4G LLALLA ROOKH. 

" Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave; i 

^* Which simple votaries shall on trust receive, 

•' While craftier feign belief till they believe. 

^* A heav'n tdo ye must have, ye lords of dust. 

^' A splendid paradise, — pure souls, ye must: 

*' That prophet ill sustains his holy call, 

** Who finds not heav'n to suit the tastes of all ■ 

" Houris for boys, omniscience for sages, 

"And wings and glories for all ranks and ages. 

" Vain things! — as lust or vanity inspires, 

" The heav'n of each is but what each desires, 

"And, soul or sense, whate'er the object be, 

" Man would be man to all eternity ! 

" So let him — Eblis ! grant this growing curse, 

" But keep him what he is, no hell were worse." 

"Oh my lost soul!" exclaimed the shuddering 

maid, 
Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said, 
MoKANNA started — not abash'd, afraid, — 
He knew no more of fear than one who dwells 
Beaeath the tropics, knows of icicles! 
But, in those di?mal words that reached his ear, 
" Oh my lost soul !" there was a sound so drear. 
So like that voice, among the sinful dead, 
In which the legend o'er hell's gate is read, 
That, new as 'twas from her, whom nought couI« 

dim 
Or sink till no\v, it starded even him. 

"Ha, my fair priestess !"— thus, with ready wile, 
Th' impostor turn'd to greet her — " thou, whos* 

"smile 
*' Hath inspiration in its rosy beam 



LLALLA ROOKH. 47 

** Beyond th'enthusiast's hope or prophet's dream! 
" Light of the faith ! who twin'st religion's zeal 
" So close with love's, men know not which they 

"feel, 
** Nor which to sigh for, in their trance of heart, 
" The heav'n thou preachest or the heav'n thou 

" art I 
" What should I be without thee ? without thee 
"How dull were power, how joyless victory! 
" Though borne by angels, if that smile of thine 
'* Bless'd not my banner, 'twere but half divine. 
" But — why so mournful, child ? those eyes that 

"shone 
*' All life, last night — what ! — is their glory gone ? 
"Come, come — this mom's fatigue hath made them 

"pale, 
"' They want rekindling— suns themselves would 

" fail, 
"Did not their comets bring, as I to thee, 
" From light's own fount supplies of brilliancy ! 
"Thou seest this cup — no juice of earth ishere^ 
" But the pure waters of that upper sphere, 
" Whose rills o'er ruby beds of topaz flow, 
" Catching the gem's bright colour, as they go. 
"Nightly my genii come and fill these urns — 
" Nay, drink — in every drop life's essence burns ; 
"'Twill make that soul all fire, those eyes allhght-— ^ 
" Come, come, I want thy loveliest smiles to-night » 
" There is a youth — why start ? — thou saw'st him 

" then ; 
" Look'd he not nobly ? such the god^like men 
*' Thou'lt have to woo thee in the bowers above; 
"Though he, I fear, hath thoughts too stern for 

" love, 



iii LLALLA ROOKHc 

'* Too rul'd by that cold enemy of bliss 

*' The world calls virtue — we must conquer this ; 

'* Nay, shrink not, pretty sage ; 'tis not for thee 

«' To scan the mazes of Heav'n's mystery. 

■' The steel must pass through fire, ere it can yield 

''Fit instruments for mighty hands to wield. 

*' This very night I mean to try the art 

" Of powerful beauty on that warrior's heart. 

'• All that my Haram boasts of bloom and wit, 

*'' Of skill and charms, most rare and exquisite, 

'Shall tempt the boy;— yoimg Mirzala's blue 

** eyes, 
" Whose sleepy lid like snow on violets lies ; 
"Arouya's cheeks, warm as a spring-day sun, 
" And lip3 that, like the seal of S©lomon, 
'• Have magic in their pressure ; Zeba's lute, 
*' And Lilla's dancing feet, that gleam and shoot 
*• Rapid and white as sea-birds o'er the deep!— 
"All shall combine their witching powers to steep 
'My convert's spirit in that softening trance, 

• From which to Heav'n is but the next advance ;-il 

• That glowing, yielding fusion of the breast, 1 
*' On which Religion stamps her image best. 

*'But hear me, priestess .'—though each nymph of, 

" these 
*'Hath some peculiar^ practised power to please, 
*'Some glance or step which at the mirror tried, 
" First charms herself, then all the world beside ; « 
'' There still wants one to make the victory sure, ■ 
*' One, who in every look joins every lure ; " 

'* Through whom all beauty's beams concentered 

'^ pass, 



I 






LLALLA ROOKH, 49 

^' Dazzling and warm, as through lovers burning 

*♦ glass, 
" Whose gentle lips persuade without a word, 
"Whose words, ev'n when unmeaning are ador*d, 
"Like inarticulate breathings from a shrine, 
** Which our faith takes for granted are divine ! 
" Such is the nymph we want, al) warmth and light 
"To crown the rich temptations of to night; 
" Such the rehned enchantress that must be 
" This heroes vanquisher, — and thou art she !" 

With her hands clasp'd, her lips apart and pale, 
The maid had stood, gazing upon die Veil 
From which these words, like south-winds througli 

a fence 
Of Kerzrah flowVs, came filled with pestilence:^ 
So boldly utter'd too ! as if all dread 
Of frowns from her, of virtuous frowns, were fled, 
And the wreich felt assurM, that once plung'd in, 
Her woman's soul would know no pause in sin ! 

At first, though mute she listened, like a dream 
SeemM all he said; nor could her mind, whos€- 

beam 
As yet was weak, penetrate half his scheme. 
But when, at length, he utter'd "thou art she!" 
All fiashM at once, and shrieking piteously, 
" Oh not for worlds! "she cried—" Great God ! to 

" whom 
** I once knelt innocent, in this my doom ? 

^ It is commonly said in Persia, that if a man 
breathe in the hot south- wind, which in June or July 
passes over that flower, the IKerzerah,] it will kill 
bim."«— Tbevenot. 



50 LLALLA ROOKH. 

<* Are all my dreams, my hopes of heavenly blisS; 

** My purity, my pride, tfien come to this, — 

" To live, the wanton of a fiend ! to be 

** The pander of his ^uilt — oh infamy! 

" And sunk, m>self, as low as hell can steep 

'' In its hot flood, drag others down as deep ! 

" Others? — ha! yes — that youth who came to day— 

^* Not him I lovM — not him — oh ! do but say 

*' Bui swear ;o me this moment 'lis not he, 

"And I will serve, dark fiend! will worship, even 

*' thee !" 
** Beware, youn^ rr^vine: thmg'— in time beware, 
" Nor utter what I cannot, must not bear 
'* Ev'n from thy lip:?. Go — try thy lute, thy voice, 
'' The boy mu.«t feel their magic — I rejoice 
" To see those flies, no matter whence they rise, 
'*Once more illuming my fair priestess' eyes: 
'* And should the youth, whom soon those eyes 

** shall warm, 
" Indeed rese.vo\i\e thy dead lover's form, 
" So much the happiersmilt thou find thy doom, 
*' As one warm lover, full of life and bloom, 
^' Excels ten thousand cold ones in the tomb. 
" Nay, nay, no frowning, swe^-t! those eyes wer 

" made 
**For love, not anger — I must be obey'd." 

*' Obey'd— 'tis well — yes, 1 deserve it all — 
" On me, on me heaven's veuifeance cannot fall * i 
" Too heavily — but AziM brave and true, i 

" And beautiful — must he be ruin'd too ? J 

*' Must he too, glorious as he is, be dri ven f 

^^ A renegade like me from love and Heaven ? 
• Like me ? — weak wretcb, I wrong liiin-- not like 

*'ine; I 






LLALLA ROOKH. oi 

*i ]\fo — i,e»g all truth and strength and purity ! 
"Fill your madd'ning hell-cup to the brim, 
** Its witchery, fiends, will have no charms for hira. 
*' Let loose your glowing wantons from their bow- 

** ers, 
" He loves, he loves, and can defy their powers ! 
*' Wretch as I am, in his heart still 1 reign 
" Pure as when first we met, without a stain ! 
" Though ruin'd — lost — my memory like a charm 
" Left by th^ dead, still keeps his soul from hai'ra. 
" Oh ! never let him know how deep the brow 
«< He kiss'dat parting is dishonour'd now — 
** Ne'er tell him howdebas'd, how sunk is she, 
" Whom once he lov'd — once l—stiU\o\es dotingly! 
"Thou laugh'st, tormentor, — what ! — thou'lt brand 

" my name ? 
" Do, do — in vain — he'll not believe my shame — 
" He thinks me true, that nought beneath God's sky 
*'Could tempt or change me,and — so once th'^ught I. 
" But this is past — though worse than death my lot, 
t" Than hell — 'tis nothing, while he knows it not. 
" Far off to some benighted land I'll fly, 
«' Where sunbeam ne'er shall enter till I die ; 
" Where none will ask the lost one whence she came 
" But I may fade and fall without a name ! 
" And thou — curst man or fiend, whate'erthou art, 
" Who found'st this burning plague spot in my heart 
" And spread' st it — oh, so quick! — through soul and 

frame, 
"With more than demon's art, till I became 
" A loathsome thing ; all pestilence, all flame ! 

" If when I'm gone " 

"Hold, fearless maniac, hold, 



52 LLAjLLA ROOKH. 



I 



*'Nor tempt my rage — by hcav'n not half so bold, 
"The puny bird that dares with teazjng hum, 
"Within the crocodile's stretchM jaws to come; '" 
" And so thou'lt fly, forsooth ? what, give up all 
" Thy chaste dominions in the haram hall, 
" Where now to love and now to Alia given, 
"Half mistress and half saint, thou hang'st as 

even 
" As doth Medina's tomb, 'twixt hell and heaven ! 
"Thou'lt fly ? as easily may reptiles run, 
" The gaunt snake hath once fixed his eyes iipon ; 
" As easily, when caught, the prey may be 
" Pluck'd from his lovingr folds, as thou from me. 
"No, no, 'tis fix'd — let good or ill beiide, 
"Thou'rt mine till death, till death Mokanna's 

bride I 
" Hast thou forgot thy oath ?"— 

At this dread word 
The maid, whose spirit his rude taunt had stirr'd 
Through all its depihs, and rous'd an anger there, 
That burst and lighten'd ev'n through her despair ' 
Shrunk back, as ir a blight were in the breath 
That spoke that word, and stagger'd, pale as death. 
" Yes, my swoi ii bride, let others seek in bowers 
"The bridal place — the chainel vault was ours I 
"Instead of scents and balms, for thee and me 
" Rose the rich steams of sweet mortality : 
" Gay, flickering death-lights shone while we were 

" v,red, 

* The ancient story concerning the Trochilus, or 
hununing bird, entering with impunity into the mouth 
of the crocodile, firmly believed at Java. — Barroio^s 
Cochin- China. 



^^'W!'%''''mw^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. ol 

'* And, for our guests, a row of goodly dead, 
^* (Immortal spirits in their time no doubt,) 
"From reeking shrouds upon the rite lookM out! 
*'That oath thou heardst more lips than thine re^ 

"peat — 
'"That cup — thou shudderest, lady — was it sweet? 
" That cup we pledg'd, the charnel choicest wine, 
" Hath bound thee — aye — body and soul all mine ; 
" Bound thee by chains that, whether blest or curst 
"No matter now, not hell itself shall burst! 
"Hence, woman, to the haram, and look gay, 
" Look wild, look — any thing but sad ; — yet stay— 
"One moment more — from what this night hath 

" passM, 
"I see that thou know'st me, know'st me well a< 

"last, 
"Ha! ha' and so, fond thing, thou thought' st aU 

"true, 
"And that I lovM mankind! — I do, I do, — 
"As victims, love them; as the sea-dog doats 
" Upon the small, sweet fry that round him floats ; 
" Or as the Nile-bird loves the slime that gives 
"That rank and venemous food on which she 

"lives! * 
" And, now thou see'st my souPs angelic hue, 
" 'Tis time those features were uncnrtainM too ;— 
** This brow, whose light — oh rare celestial light ! 
" Hath been reserv'd to bless thy favoured sight; 
" These dazzling eyes before whose shrouded! 

" might 

* Circum easdem ripas (Nili, viz.) ales est Ibis- 
Ea serpentium populatur ova, gratissimamque ex his 
escam nidis suis refert. SoUntts* 
C2 






54 LLALLA ROOKH. 

"Thou'st seen immortal man kneel down and 

"quake — 
''Would that they were heaven's lightnings for his 

''sake! 
•'But turn and look — then wonder, if thou wilt, 
*' That I should hate, should take revenge, by guilt, 
*' Upon the hand, whose mischief or whose mirth 
'' Sent me thus maim'd and monstrous upon earth ; 
" Andoa that race who, though more vile they be 
" Than mowing apes, are demi-gods to me ! 
"Here, judge, if hell with all its power to damn, 
"Can add one curse to the foul thing I am!" — 

He raisM his veil — the maid turnM slowly round, 
Look'd at him—shriek'd — and sunk upon the 

ground. 



LLALLA ROOKHo 55 



On their arrival next night, at the place of en- 
campment, they were surprised and delighted to 
find the groves all round illuminated ; some artists of 
Yamtcheou having bee a sent on previously for the 

J)urpose. On each side of the green alley, which 
ed to the royal pavilion, artificial sceneries of bam- 
boo-work were erected, representing arches, mina- 
rets, and towers, from which hung thousands of 
silken lanterns, painted by the most delicate pencils 
of Canton. Nothing could be more beautiful than 
the leaves of the mango-trees and acacias, shin- 
ing in the light of the bamboo scenery, which shed 
a lustre round as soft as that of the nights of Pe- 
ristan. 

Llalla Rookh, however, who was too much 
occupied by the sad story of Zelica and her lover, 
to give a thought to any Vhingelse, except^ perhaps, 
him uho related it, hurried on through this scene 
of splendour to the pavilion, — greatly to the morti- 
fication r.f the poor artists of Yamtcheou, — and was 
followed with equal rapidity by the great chamber- 
lain, cursing, as he went,"that ancient mandarin, 
whose parental anxiety in lighting up the shores ot' 
the lake, where his beloved daughter had wander- 
ed and been lost, wan the origin of these fantastic 
Chinese illuminalions. 

Without a moment's delay young Feramorz was 
introduced, and Fadladeen, who could never 
make up his mtnd as to <he merits of a poet, till he 
knew the religious sect to which he belonged, was 
about to ask him whether he was a Shia or aSooni, 
when Llalla Huokh impatientiy clapped her 
hands for silence, and the youth, being seated upon 
the musnud near her, proceeded :— 



11 

f'l 



:jG LLALLA ROOKH. 

Prepare thy soul, young Azim ! thou hastbrav'd 
The bands of Greece, still mighty though enslavM ; 
Hast fac'd her phalanx, arm'd with all its fame, 
Her Macedonian pikes and globes of flame; 
All this hast fronted, with firm heart and brow, 
But a more perilous trial waits thee now^—— 
\N Oman's bright eyes, a dazzling host of eyes 
From every land where woman smiles or sighs ; 
Of every hue, as love may chance to raise 
His black or azure banner in their blaze ; 
And each sweet mode of warfare, from the flash 
That lightens boldly through the shadowy lash, 
To the sly, stealing splendours, almost hid, 
Like swords, half-sheathM, beneath the downcast 

lid. 
Such, Azim, is the lovely, luminous host 
Now led against thee ; and let conquerors boast 
Their fields of fame, he who in virtue arms 
A young, warm spirit against be <uty's charms, 
Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall, 
Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all. 

Now, through the haram chambers, moving lighttr 
And busy shapes proclaim the toilet's rites ; 
From room to room the ready handmaids hie, 
Some skillM to wreathe the turban tastefully, 
Or hang the veil, in negligence of shade, 
O'er the warm blushes of the youthful maid, 
Who, if between the folds but one eye shone, 
Like Seba's queen could vanquish with that one;* 

"^ Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine 
eyes. Sol. Sajig. 



'^j^^^f^mr^:'- 



LLALIiA ROOKH. tu 

While some bring leaves of Henna to imbue 

The fingers' ends with a bright rosei^te hue,* 

So bright, that in the mirror's depth they seem 

Like tips of coral branches in the stream : 

And others mix the Kohol's jetty (iye, 

To give that long, dark lanii^uish to the eye,t 

Which makes the maids, whom kings are proud to 

cull 
From far Circassians vales, so beautiful! 

All is in motion ; rings and plumes and pearls 
Are shining every where : — some younger girls 
Are gone by moonlight to the garden beds, 
To gather fresh, cool chaplets for their heads ; 
Gay creatures' sweet, though mournful 'tjs to see 
How each prefers a garland from that tree 
Which brings to mind her childhood's innocen 

day. 
And the dear fields and friendships far away. 
The maid of India, blest again to hold 
In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold,t * 
Thinks of the lime when by the Ganges' flood, 
Her little pla> -mates t^catter'd many a bud 
Upon her long black hair, with glossy gleam, 
Just dripping from the consecrated stream ; 
While (he young Arab, haunted by the smell 

* They tinged the ends of her fingers scarlet with 
Henna, so thai they resembled branches of coral."-— 
Story of Prince Futtun in Bahardanush, 

t** The women black the inside of their eyelids 
with a powder named the black cohol." — Russel. 

J" The appearance of the blossoms of the gold-co- 
loured Campac on the black hair of the Indian wo- 
men, has supplied the Sanscrit Poets with many ele- 
gant allusions, "—v, Asiatic Researches, vol. iv. 



58 LLALLA ROOKH. 



1 



\^ 



Of her own mountain flowers, as by a spell,- 
The sweet Elcaya,* and that courteous tree 
Which bows to all who seek its canopyt — 
Sees callM up round her by these magic scents? 
The well, the camels, and her father's tents: 
Sighs for the home she left with little pain, 
And wishes even its sorrows back again ! 

Meanwhile, through vast illuminated halls, 
Silent and bright, where nothing but the falls 
Of fragrant waters, gushing with cool sound 
From many a jasper fount is heard around, 
Young AziM roams bewilder'd, — nor can guess 
What means this maze of light and loneliness. 
Here the way leads, o'er tesseiated floors 
Or mats of Cairu, through long corridors, 
Where, ranged in cassolets and siker urns, 
Sweer wood of aloe or of sandal burns; 
And spicy rods, such as illume at night 
The bowers of rjBET,tsend forth odorous light. 
Like Peris' wands, when pointing out the road 
For some pare spirit to its blest abode! — 
And here, at once, the glittering saloon 
Bursts on his si^ht, boundless and bright as noon; 
Where, in the midst, reflectin}^ back the rays 
In broken rainbows, a fesh fonn(aiu plays 
High as th' enamell'd cupola, which towers 

* A tree famous for its perfume, and common on 
the hills of Yemen. - -Niehuhr. 

fOf the genus mimosa, ** which droops its branches 
whenever any person approaches it, seeming as if it 
saluted those who retire under its shade."— iVtcftttAr. 

X " Cloves are u principal ingredient in the composi- 
tion of the perfumed rods, which men of rank keep 
constantly burning m their presence."— 7\<mcr'ff 
Tibet. 



^^'^T: 



LLALLA ROOKH. 69 

All rich with Arabesques of gold a»d flowers; 
And the mosaic floor beneath shines through 
The sprinkling of that fountain's silvery dew, 
JLike the wet, glistening shells, of every dye, 
That on the margin of the Red Sea lie. 
Here too he traces the kind visitings 
Of woman's love in those lair living things 
Of land and wave, whose fate, — in bondage thrown 
For their weak loveliness — is like her own ! 
On one side gleaming with a sudden grace 
Through water, brilliant as the crystal vase 
In which it undulates, small fishes shine, 
Like golden ingots from a fairy mine ; 
While, pn the other, latticM lightly in 
With odoriferous woods of Camorin,* 
Each brilliant bird that wings the aii is seen ; — 
Gay, sparkling loories, such as gleam between 
The crimson blossoms of the coral treet 
In the warm isles of India's sunny sea : 
Mecca's blue sacred pigeon,+ and the thrush 
Of Indostan,^ whose holy warblingsgush, 
At evening, from the tall pagoda's top ; 
Those golden birds that, in the spice time, drop 
About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food 

* C'est d'ou vient le bois d' aloes, que les Arabes 
appellent Oud Comari, et celui du sandal, qui s'y 
trouve en grande quantite— Z)' Herhelot. 

t ** Thousands of variegated loories visit the corai 
trees." Barrow, 

X " In Mecca, there are quantities of blue pigeons 
which none will aifright or abuse, much less kill." 
PiWs account of the Mahometans* 

§ "The Pagoda Thrush is esteemed among the 
first choristers of India. It sits perched on the sacred 
Pagodas and from thence dehvers its melodious song," 
PennanV* Hindostan, 



^ LLALLA ROOKH. 

Whose scent hath lur'd them o'er the summc 

flood;* 
And those that under Araby's soft sun 
Build their high nests of budding cinnamon ;t-- 
In short, all rare and beauteous ^ings that fly 
Through the pure element, here calmly lie 
Sleeping in light, like the green birds|: that dwell 
In Eden's radiant fields of asphodel ! 

So on through scenes past all imagining,— 
•VIore like the luxuries of that impious king, § 
Whom Death's dark Angel, with his lightning torch 
Struck down and blasted even in pleasure's porch^ 
Than the pure dwelling of a prophet sent, 

Arm'd with Heaven's sword, for man's enfranchise- 

ment-~ 
Young AziM wander'd, looking sternly round, 
His simple garb and war-boots' clanking sound 
But ill according with the pomp and grace 
And silent lull of that voluptuous place ! 

" Is this then," thought the youth, **is this the 
"way 
'' To free man's spirit from the deadening sway 
'' Of worldly sloth ;~to teach him, while he lives, 

* Birds of Paradise, which, at the nutmeg season, 
come m flights from the southern isles of India, and 
. the strength of the nutmeg," says Taremier, "so 
intoxicates them, that they fall dead drunk to the earth. 

Us nest with cinnamon."-.Brow»'5 Vulgar errors. 
I The spirits of the martyrs wiU be lodged in the 
""'P^u^i^.^^^^^'^^' -^bm, vol.ix.p. 421. 

Jl fifiJ"*;''^ Paradise, and was destroyed by lightniJig 
Jhe fint time he attempted to enter thenu 



LLALLA ROOKH. 61 

'*' To know no bliss but that which virtue gives. 
'* And when he dies, to leave his lofty name 
" A light, a land«mark on the cliffs of fame ? 
" It was not so, land of the generous thought 
"And daring deed! thy godlike sages taught; 
" It was not thus, in bowers of wanton ease, 
'* Thy freedom nurs'd her sacred energies: 
" Oh ! not beneath th' enfeebling, withering glow 
'* Of such dull luxury did tiiose myrdes grow, 
** With which she wreathM her sword^ when sht- 

*' would dare 
^* Immortal deeds; but in the bracing air 
'* Oftoil,~of temperance,— of that high, rare, 
1* Ethereal virtue, which alone can breathe 

* Life, health, and lustre into freedom's wreath! 

* Who, that surveys this span of earth v/e press, 

* This speck of life in time's great wilderness, 

* This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, 
' The past, the future, two eternities ! 

* Would sully the bright spot or leave it bare, 

c' When he might build him a proud temple there, 

* A name, that long shall hallow all its space, 

* And be each purer soul's high resting-place ? 
' But no — it cannot be, that one, whom God 

* Has sent to break the wizard falsehood's rod, — 
f A prophet of the truth, whose mission draws 

■ Its rights from Heaven, should thus profane his 

" cause 
" With the world's vulgar pomps; — no, no — I see — 
^ He thinks me weak — this glare of luxuiy 

* Is but to tempt, to try the eaglet gaze 

* Of my young soul ;— shine on, 'twill stand the 

"blaze!" 



62 LLALLA ROOKH. 

So thought the youth ;— but, ev'n while he defied 
The witching scene, he felt its witchery glide 
Through every sense. The perfume, breathing 

round, 
Like a pervading spirit ; — the still sound 
Of falling waters, lulling as the song 
Of Indian bees at sunset, when they throng 
Around the fragrant NiLiCA, and deep 
In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep ! 
And music too — dear music ! that can touch 
Beyond all else the soul that loves it much — 
INow heard far off, so far as but to seem — 
Like <he faint, exquisite music of a dream; — 
All was too much for him, too full of bliss, 
The heart could nothing feel, that felt not this; 
Soften'd he sunk upon a couch, and gave 
His soul up to s veet thoughts, like wave on wave^ 
Succeeding in smooth seas, when storms are iaid| 
Rethought of Zelica, his own dear maid, 
And of the time when, full of blissful sighs, 
They sat and look'd into each other's eyes, 
Silent and happy — as if God had given 
Nought else worth looking at on this side heaveul 

" Oh ray lov'd misti'ess! whose enchantment stj 
" Are with me, round me, wander where I will- 
' ' It is for thee, for thee alone I seek 
" The paths of glory — to light up thy cheek 
'* With warm approval — in that gentle look, 
'' To read my praise, as in an angel's book, 

* ** My Pundits assure me that the plant before us 
Ithe Nilica] in their Sephalica, thus named because 
the bees are supposed to sleep on its blossoms." ~ 
Sir W. Jones. 









LLALLA ROOKH. 63 

^* And think all toils rewarded, wlien from thee 

'* I gain a smile, worth immortality ! 

^* How shall I bear the moment, when restored 

" To that young heart where I alone am lord, 

" Though of such bliss unworthy,— since the best 

" Alone deserve to be the happiest ! 

" When from those lips, unbreath'd upon for years, 

" I shall again kiss off the soul -felt tears, 

^' And find those tears warm as when last they 

"started, 
^* Those sncred kisses pure as when we parted! 
"Oh my own life ! why should a single day, 
'* A moment keep me from those arms away ?" 

While thus he thinks, still nearer on the breeze 
Come those delicious, dream-like harmonies. 
Each note of which but adds new, downy links 
To the soft chain in which his spirit sinks. 
He turns him tow'rd the sound, and, faraway, 
Through a long vista, sparkling with the play 
Of countless lamps, like the rich track which day 
Leaves on the waters, when he sinks from us. 
So long the path, its ligh' so tremulous; — 
He sees a group of female forms advance. 
Some chain'd together in the mazy dance 
By fetters, forg'd in the green sunny bowers, 
As they were captives to the king of flowers; — 
And some disporting round, unlink'd and free, 
Who seem'd to mock their sisters' slavery, 
And round and round them still, in wheeling flight 
Went, like gay moths about a lamp at night ,* 
While others walkM as gracefully along. 
Their feet kept time, the very soul of song 



u4 LLALLA ROOKH. 

From psaltry, pipe, and lutes of heavenly thrill. 
Or their own youthful voices, heaven) ier still ! 
And now they come, now pass before his eye, 
Forms such as Nature moulds, when she would vie 
With Fancy's pencil, and gave birth to things 
Lovely beyond its fairesi picturings ! 
Awhile they dance before hira, then divide, 
Breaking, like rosy clouds at even-tide, 
Around the rich pavilion of the sun, 
Till Pilently dispersing, one by one, 
Through many a path that from the chamber leads 
To gardens, terraces, and moon-light meads, 
Their distant laughter comes upon the wind, 
And but one trembling nymph remains behind, 
Beck'ning them back in vain, for they are gone. 
And she is Isft in all that lighr alone ; 
No veil to curtain o'er her beauteous brow, 
In its young bashfulness more beauteous now; 
But a light, golden chain-work round her hair. 
Such as the maids of Yezd and Shiraz wear, 
From which, on either side, gracefully hung, 
A golden amulet, in th' Arab tongue, 
Engraven o'er with some immortal line 
From holy writ, or bard scarce less divine : 
While her left hand, as shrinkiagly she stood, 
Held a small lute of gold and sandal-wood, 
Which once or twice, she louch'd with hurried 

strain. 
Then took her trembling fingers off again. 
But when at length a timid glance she stole 
At AziM, the sweet gravity of soul 
She saw through all his features calm'd her fear 



LLALLA ROOKH. , 

And, like a lialf-tamM antelope, more near, 
Though shrinking still she came; then sat her 

down 
Upon a musnud^s* edge, and, bolder grown. 
In the pathetic mode of Isfahan t 
Touch'd a preluding strain, and thus began: 

There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's | stream^ 
And the nightingale sings round it all the day 
long ; 

in the time of my childhood *twas like a sweet 
dream. 
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. 

That bower and its music 1 never forget, 
But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, 
think — is the nightingale singing there yet ? 
Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer '! 

^0, the roses soon witherM that hung o'er the 
wave. 
But some blossoms were gathered, while freshly 

they shone, 
nd a dew was distiird from their flowers that 

gave 
All the fraghance of summer, whon summer wa? 
gone. 

* Musnuds are cushioned scats, usually reserved 
r persons of distinction. 

t The Persians, like the ancient Greeks, call their 
iisical modes or perdas by the names of different 
untries or cities, as the mode of Isfahan, the mode 
Irak, etc. 
t A river which flows near tlie ruins of Chilminar 



n 



66 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, 
An essence that breathes of it many a year, 

TJius bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, 
Is that bower on the bank of the calm Bendc 



'' Poor maiden!" thought the youth, *' if thou wer 

*' sent, 
" With tliy soft lute and beauty's blandishment, 
" To wake unholy wishes in this heart, 
"Or tempt its truth, thou little know'st the art, 
** For though thy lip should sweetly counsel wrong 
" Those vestal eyes would disavow its song. 
" But thou hast breath'd such purity, thy lay 
*' Returns so fondly to youth's virtuous day, \ 

•'And leads thy soul, if e'er it wander'd thence, 
**So gently back to its first innocence, 
"That I would sooner stop th'unchaineddove, 
"When swift returning to its home of love, 
"And round its snowy wing new fetters twine, 
" Thau turn from virtue one pure wish of thine.' ' 

Scarce had this feeling pass'd, when, sparkling 
through I 

The gently open'd curtains of light blue. 
That veil'd the breezy casement, countless eyes 
Peeping like stars through the blue evening skies^ 
Look'd laughing in, as if to mock the pair 
That sat so still and melancholy there — 
And now the curtains fly apart, and in 
From the cool air, 'mid showers of jessamine 
Which those without fling after them in play. 
Two lightsome maidens spring, lightsome as they 



LLALLA ROOKH. C7 

Who live in th' air on odours, and around 

The bright saloon, scarce conscious of the ground, 

Chase one another in a varying dance 

iOf mirth and languor, coyness and advance, 
Too eloquently like love's warm pursuit : — 
While she, who Sung so sweetly to the lute 

i Her dream of home, steals timidly away. 
Shrinking, as violets do in summer's ray, — 
Eut takes with lier from Azim's heart thatsigJi 
We sometimes give to forms that pass us by 
In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain, 

'.Creatures of light we never see again ! 

Around the white necks of the nymphs wiio 
danc'd 
Hung carcanetsof orient gems, that glanc'd 
More brilliant than the sea-glass glittering o'ev 
The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore ; * 
While from their long, dark tresses, in a fall 
Of curls descending, bells as musical 
As those that, on the golden-shafted trees 
Of Eden, shake in the eternal breeze, t 
Rung round their steps, at every bound more sweet' 
^As 'twere th' extatic language of their feet! 
At length the chase was o'er, and they stood 
wreath'd 

" To the north of us, [on the coast of the Cas- 
pian, near Badku,] was a mountain which sparkled 
like diamonds, arising from the sea glass and crystals, 
with which it abounds." Journey of the Russian 
Ambassador to Persia, 1746. 

t *' To which will be added, the sound of the bells, 
hanging on the trees, which will be put in motion by 
the wind proceeding from the throne of God, as of- 
ten as the blessed wish for music." Sale, 

I 



G8 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Within each other's arms : while soft there 

breathed 
Through the cool casement, mingled with the sighs 
Of moonlight flowers, music that seemM to rise 
From some still lake, so liquidjy it rose ; 
And, as itswell'd again, at each faint close, 
The ear could track through all that maze of chords 
And young sweet voices, these impassioned words : 



A Spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh 
Is burning now through earth and air : 

Where cheeks are blushing, the spirit is nigh; 
Where lips are meeting, the spirit is there I 

llis breath is the soul of flowers like these, 
And his floating eyes — oh ! they resemble 

Klue water-lilies, * when the breeze 
Is making the stream around them tremble i 

Ilail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power ! 

Spirit of love, spirit of bliss ! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 

And there never was moonliglit so sweet a- 
this. 

By the fair and brave, 

Who blushing unite. 
Like the sun and wave, 

When they meet at nighl ' 

^ The blue lotos, which grows in Cashmere and m 
»*ersia. 



^,}m~^ 



LLALLA ROOKEI. 

By the tear that shows 
When the passion is nigh, 

As the rain-drop flows 
From the heat of the sky ! 

By the first love-beat 
Of the youthful heart, 

By the bliss to meet, 
And the pain to part ! 

By all that thou hast 

To mortals given, 
Which — oh ! could it last, 

This earth were heaven ! 

We call thee hither, entrancing power ! 

Spirit of love ! spirit of bliss ! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour ! 

And there never was moonlight so sweet 
this. 



Impatient of a scene, whose luxuries stole, 
Spite of himself, too deep into his soul, 
And where, midst all that the young heart loves 

most. 
Flowers, music, smiles, to yield was to be lost, 
The youth had started up and turn'd away 
From the light nymphs and their luxurious Ia,v 
To muse upon the pictures that hung round,— 
Bright images, that spoke without a sound, 
'And views, like vistas into fairy ground. 
But here again new spells came o'er hi« <ifr.^^ 
A II that the pencil's mute omnipotence 
D 




70 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Could call up into life, of soft and fair, 
Of fond and passionate, was glowing there ; 
Nor yet too warm, but touchM with that fine art 
Which paints of pleasure but the purer part ; 
Which knows ev'n beauty when half veil'd is 

best, 

Like her own radiant planet of the West, 
Whose orb when half relirM looks loveliest ! ■ 

There hung the history of the genii-king, I 

Trac'd through each gay, voluptuous wandering, 
With her from Saba^s bowers, in whose bright 

eyes 
He read that to be blest is to be wise ;"* 
Here fond Zuleika t woos with open arms 
The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young chariii 
Yet,, flying, turns to gaze, and, half undone, 
Wishes that heav'n and she could both be won. 
And here Mohammed, born for love and guile, 
Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile ; 
Then beckons some kind angel from above 
With a new text to consecrate their love ! + 

With rapid step, yet pleas'd and lingering eye. 
Did theyouih pass these pictur'd stories by, 

* For the loves of king Solomon, [who was suppos*; 
^;d to preside over the whole race of genii,] with Bal- 
kis, the queen of Sheba or Saba, v. lyHerbeloti and 
the Notes on the Korarty chap. 2. 

t The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orien- 
tals. Her adventure with the patriarch Joseph is the 
subject of many of their poerns and romances. 

X The particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, 
the Coptic girl, in justification of which he added a 
new chapter to the Koran, may be found in Gflgr- 
mVv'* \ntcR ^rvon AbiiJfeda,^, 151 



XXAJ^LA ROOKH, 71 

And has^n'd to a casement, where the light 
Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright 
The^clds without .were seen, sleeping as still, 
A? if no life remain'd in breeze or rill. 
Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near, 
PteathM with a holier language on his ear, 
As though the distance and that heavenly ray 
Through which the sounds came floating took 

away 
All that had been too earthly in the lay. 
Oh ! could he listen to such sounds unmoved, 
And by that light — nor dreem of her he lovM? 
Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou may 'si, 
'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. 
Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart, 
Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. 
Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them 

last. 
Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast; 
Recall her tears, to thee at parting given, 
Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in heaven ! 
Think in her own still bower she waits the now, 
With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow^ 
Yetshrin'din solitude—- thine all, thine only. 
Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely I 
Oh that a dream so sweet, so long enjoyed, 
Should be so sadly, cruelly destroyed ! 
The song is hush'd, the laughing nymphs are 
flown, 
And he is left, musing of bliss, alone; — 
Alone ? — no, not alone — that heavy sigh, 
That sob of grief, which broke from some c-t 

nigh— 



rs LLALLA ROOKH. 

Whose could it be ? — alas ! is misery found 
Here, even here, on this enchanted ground '/ 
He turns, and sees a female form, close veiPdr 
Leaning, as if both heart and strength hadfail'd* 
Against a pillar near ; — not glittering o'er 
With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, 
But in that deep-blue melancholy dress, * 
Bokhara's maidens wear in mindfulness 
Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ;— 
And such as Z£Lica had on that day 
He left her, — when, with heart too full to speak, 
He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek 

A strange emotion stirs within him, — more 
Than mere compassion ever wak'd before ; 
Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she 
Springs forward, as with life's last energy, 
But, swooning in that one convulsive bound, 
Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground ; — 
Her veil falls off— her faint hands clasp his knees— 
'Tis she herself! — 'tis Zelica he sees t 
But ah, so pale, so chang'd — none but a lover 
Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover 
The once ador'd divinity ! ev'n he 
Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly 
Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd 
Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz'd, 
Ere he could think she was indeed his own, 
Own darling maid, whom he so long had known 
In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both ; 
Who, ev'n when grief was heaviest— when loth 

* " Deep blue is their mourning colour." HaU' 
"ay. 



LLALLA ROOKH. ^^ 

He left her for the wars — in that worst hour 
Sat io her sorrow like the sweet night-flower,* 
When darkness brings its weeping glories out. 
And spreads its sighs like frankincense about 1 
" Look up, my Zelica ! one moment show 
" Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know 
" Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, 
** But there, at least, shines as it ever shone, 
" Come, look upon thy Azim — one dear glance, 
^' Like those of old, were heav'n ! whatever chance 
" Hath brought thee here, oh! 'twas a blessed one'! 
'* There — my sweet lids — they move — that kiss hath 

" run 
" Like the first shoot of life through every vein, 
" And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again ! 
"Oh the delight— now, in this very hour, 
" When had the whole rich world been in m^ 

" power, 
*' I should have singled out thee, only thee, 
** From thtt whole world's collected treasury— 
" To have thee here — to hang thus fondly o'er 
" My own best, purest Zelica once more!" 

It was indeed the touch of those lov'd lips 
Upon her eyes, that chac'd their short eclipse, 
And, gradual as the snow, at heaven's breath, 
Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath. 
Her lids unclos'd, and the bright eyes were seen 
Gazing on his, — not, as tliey late had been. 
Quick, restless, wild, but mournfully serene ; 
As if to lie, ev'n for that tranced minute, 

* The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread 
(Is rich odour after sun^set 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

► near his heart, had consolation in it ; 
And thus to wake in his belovM caress 
Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. 
But, when she heard him call her good and pure, 
Oh 'twas too much — too dreadful to endure! 
Shuddering she broke away from his embrace, 
And, hiding with both hands her guilty face, 
Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven 
A heart of very marble, ** pure !— oh heaven !" 

Thai tone — those looks so chang'd— the wither- 
ing blight. 
That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light — 
The dead despondency of those sunk eyes. 
Where once, had he thus met her by surprize, 
He would have seen himself, too happy boy. 
Reflected in a thousand lights of joy ,* 
And then the place, that bright unholy place, 
Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace 
And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves 
Its wily covering of sweet balsam leaves;* — 
All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold 
As death itself ; it needs not to be told — 
No, no — he sees it all, plain as the brand 
Of burning shame can mark — whatever the hand 
That could from heav'n and him such brightness 

sever, 
Tis done— to heav'n and him she'sjost for ever! 
It was a dreadful moment; not the tears, 
The lingering, lasting misery of years 

* " Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were? 
frequent among the balsam-trees, I made very particu- 
lar enquiry ; several were brought me alive both in 
Yambo and Jidda. ' ' Bruce, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

Could match that niinute^s anguish— all the worst 
Of sorrow's elements in that dark burst 
Broke o'er his soul, and, with one crash of fate, 
Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate ! 

"Oh ! curse me not," she cried, as wild he tossM 
His desperate hand towards heav'n — " though I am 

"lost, 
** Think not that guilt, that falsehood made me falL 
" No, no — 'twas grief, 'twas madness did it all ! 
*'Nay, doubt me not — though all thy love hatU 

**ceas'd— 
*' I know it hath— yet, yet believe, at least, 
** That every spark of reason's light must be 
*'Quench'd in this brain, ere I could stray from 

"thee! 
**They told me tliou wert dead— why, Azim, why, 
•* Did we not both of us, that instant die 
** When we were parted ? oh ! could'st thou but 

"know 
« With what a deep devotedness of woe, 
** I wept thy absence— o'er and o'er again 
" Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew 

" pain, 
" And memory, like a drop that, night and day, 
" Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away ! 
"Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home, 
"My eyes still turn'd the way thou wert to come, 
" And all the long, long night of hope and fear, 
" Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear — 
" Oh God ! thou would'st not wonder that, at laBt, 
" When every hope was all at once o'ercast, 
*' When I heard frightful voices round me «ay 
^^ Azim is deadl — this wretched brain gave way, 




, 7t> LLALLA ROOKH. 

■■• '* And I became a wreck, at random driven, 

^i <« Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven— 

, ' "All vyild — and ev*n this quenchless love within 

" Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin I 
y.^ '' Thou pitiest me — I knew thou would' st — that sky 
• : " Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I. 

"The fiend, who lur'd me hither — hist I come 
'■^ " near, 

•-^ "Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear — 

jf *' Told me such things — oh ! with such devilish att, 

1! " As would have ruin'd ev'n a holier heart — 

'" Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, 
I " Where bless'd at length, if I but serv'd him here, 
V "I should for ever live in thy dear sight, 

Jji *' And drink from those pure eyes eternal light ! 

" Think, think how lost, how maddenM I must be- 
'* To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee I 
'* Thou weep'st for me— do, weep— oh ! that I 

" durst 
** Kiss off that tear ! but, no^^these lips are curst, 
*' They must not touch thee ; — one divine caress, 
'* One blessed moment of forgetfulness 
'^I've had within those arms, and that shall He, 
'' ShrinM in my soul's deep memory till I die ! 
" The last of joy's last relics here below, 
"The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe, 
'* My heart has treasur'd from affection's spring, 
'• To soothe and cool its deadly withering ! 
'* But thou — yes, thou must go — for ever go ; 
** This place is not for thee— for thee ! oh no, 
'* Did I but tell thee half, thy tortur'd brain 
'' Would burn like mine, and mine go wild again ! 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

*' Enough, that guilt reigns hi^re— that hearts, oncfe 

*' good, 
'Now tainted, chill'd and broken, are his food. 
" Enough, that we are parted — that there rolls 
** A flood of headlong fate between our souls, 
*' Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee 
'* As hell from heav'n, to all eternity !" 

"Zelica! Zelica!'* the youth exclaim'd. 
In all the tortures of a mind iuflamM 
Almost to madness — **by that sacred heav'n, 
** Where yet, if pray'rs can move, thou'lt beforgiv 

"en, 
" As thou art here — here, in this writhing heart, 
'^ All sinful, wild and ruin'd as thou art ! 
" By the remembrance of our once, pure love, 
" Which, like a church-yard light, still burns abo\ 
** The grave of our lost souls — which guilt in thee 
*' Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me! 
*' I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence — 
** If thou hast yet one spark of innocence, 

"Fly with me from this place, " 

"With thee! ohbli.^sI 
" 'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this. 
" What ! take the lost one with thee ?— let her rovp 
" By thy dear side, as in those days of love, 
" When we were both so happy, both so pure — 
" Too heavenly dream ! if there's on earth a cui ^ 
" For the sunk heart, 'tis this— day after day 
" To be the blest companion of thy way ; 
" To hear thy angel eloquence — to see 
** Those virtuous eyes for ever turn'd on me , 

And in their light rechasten'd silentlv, 
D2 



I rs LLALLA ROOKH, 

i ' ** Like the stainM web that whitens in the sun,, 

^ ** Grow pure by being purely shone upon ! 

"And thou wilt pray for me — I know thou wilt — 
*' At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt 
r *' Come heaviest o*er the heart, thou'lt lift thine 

"eyes, 
^ ; *' Full of sweet tears, unto the darkening skies, 

' '' '' And plead for me with heaven, till I can dare 

" To fix my own weak, sinful glances there ; — 
, i ** Till the good angels, when they see me cling 

fr " For ever near thee, pale and sorrowing, 

** Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven, 
' ''And bid thee take thy weeping slave to heaven i 

'' Oh yes, Til fly with thee " 

Scarce had she said 
These breathless words, when a voice deep and 

dread 
As that of Monker, waking up the dead 
From their first sleep — so startling 'twas to both — 
Kung through the casement near " Thy oath ! thy 

"oath!" 
Oh heaven, the ghastliness of that maid's look ! — 
'• 'Tis he," faintly she cried, while terror shook 
Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes. 
Though through the casement, now, nought but the 

skies 
And moon-light fields were seen, calm as before-- 
" 'Tis he, and I am his— all, all is o'er — 
" Go— fly this instant, or thou art ruin'd too— 
" My oath, my oath, oh God ! 'tis all too true, 
'* True as the worm in this cold heart it is — 
'• I am Mokanna's bride— his, Azim, his— 
The dead stood round us, while I spoke that \ 



1 



LLALLA ROOKH, 79 

•^ Their blue lips echoed it— I hear them now 1 
*^ Their eyes glar'd on me, while I pledg'd that 

" bowl, 
'* 'Twas burning blood — I feel it in my soul ! 
**And the VeiPd Bridegroom— hist I I've seen to 

" night 
'*What angels know not of so foul a sight, 
" So horrible — oh ! never may'st thou see 
*' What there lies hid from all but hell and me! 
"But I must hence — off, off— I am not thine, 
"Nor Heav'n's, nor love's, nor aught that is dl- 

"vine — 
'*HoId me not — ha ! — think'st thou the fiends that 

"sever 
" Hearts, cannot sunder hands ? — thus, then—for 

"ever!" 

With all that strength, which madness lends the 
weak. 
She flung away his arm ; and with a shriek. 
Whose sound, though he should linger out more 

years 
Than wretch e*er told, can never leave his ears,-— 
Flew up through that long avenue of light. 
Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night. 
Across the sun, and soon was out of sight! 



1 



CO LLALLA ROOKH. 



Llalla {looEH could think of nothing ail day 
but the misery of these two young lovers. Her 
gaiety was gone, and she looked pensively even up- 
on Fadladeen. She felt too, without knowing 
why, a sort of uneasy pleasure in imagining that 
AziM must have been just such a youtn as Fera- 
MORZ ; just as worthy to enjoy all the blessings, 
without any of the pangs, of that illusive passion, 
which too often, like the sunny apples of Istakar, 
is all sweetness on one side, and all bitterness on 
the other. 

As they passed along a sequestered river after 
sunset, they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the 
bank, whose employment seem'd to them so strange, 
that they stopped their palankeens to observe her. 
She haa lighted a small lamp, filled with oil of co- 
coa, and placing it in an earthen dish, adorned with 
a wreath of flowers, had committed it with a trem- 
bling hand to the stream, and was now anxiously 
watching its progress down the current, heedless of 
tlie gay cavalcade which had drawn up beside her. 
Llalla Rookh was all curiosity ; — when one of 
her attendants, who had lived upon the banks of the 
Ganges, (where this ceremonj^ is so frequent, that 
often, in the dusk of the evening, the river is seen 
glistening kll over with lights, like Oton-tala or Sea 
of Stars,) informed the princess that it was the usual 
way, in which the friends of those who had gone on 
dangerous voyages offered up vows for their safe re- 
turn. If the lamp suwk immediately, the omen was 
disastrous ; but if it went shining down the stream, 
and continued to burn till entirely out of sight, the 
return of the beloved object was considered as cer- 
tain. 

Llalla Rookh, as they moved on, more than 
once looked back, to observe how the young Hin- 
doo's lamp proceeded; and, while she saw with 
pleasure that it was still unextinguished, she could 
not help fearing that all the hopes of this life were 
no better than that feeble light upon the river. The 



1 



LLALLA ROOKH, 81 

remainder of the journey was passed in silence. 
Slie now, for the first time, felt that shade of melan- 
choly, which comes over the youthful maiden's 
heart, as sweet aud transient as her own breath up- 
on a mirror ; nor was it till she heard the lute of 
Feramorz, touched lightly at the door of her pavi- 
lion, that she waked from the reverie in which she 
had been wandering. Instantly her eyes w^ere light- 
ed up with pleaiure, and, after a few unheard re- 
marks from Fadladeen upon the indecorum of ti 
poet seating himselfin presence of a princess, every 
thing was arranged as on the preceding evening, 
and all listened with eagerness, while the story was 
thus continued :— •> 



92 LLALLA ROOKH. 



Whose are the gilded tents that crowd the way,! 
Where all was waste and silent yesterday ? 
This city of war, which, in a few short hours, 
Hath sprung up here, as if the magic powers 
Of him who, in the twinkling of a star, 
Built the high pillar'd halls of Chilminar, * 
Had conjur'dup, far as the eye can see. 
This world of tents and domes and sun-bright ar- 
moury ! — 
Princely pavilions, screen'd by many a fold 
Of crimson cloth, and topp'd with balls of gold; — 
Steeds, with their housings of rich silver spun. 
Their chains and poitrels glittering in the sun; 
And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells. 
Shaking in every breeze their light-ton'd bells ! 

But yester-eve, so motionless around, 
So mute was this wide plain, that not a sound 
But the far torrent, or the locust-bird t 
Hunting among the thickets, could be heard; — 
Yet hark ! what discords now, of every kind. 
Shouts, laughs and screams are revelling in the wind I 
The neigh of cavalry ; the tinkling throngs 
Of laden camels and their drivers' songs; — 

* The edifices of Chilminar and Balbec are suppos- 
ed to have been built by the genii, acting under the 
orders of Jan ben Jan, who governed the world long 
before the time of Adam. 

t A native of Khorassan, and allured southward by 
means of the water of a fountain between Shiraz and 
Ispahan, called the Fountain of Birds, of which it is 
so fond that it will follow wherever .that water is car- 
ried. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 83 

Ringing of arms, and flapping in the breeze 
Of streamers from ten thousand canopies ; 
War-music, bursting out from time to time 
With gong and Tymbalon's tremendous chime ;~ 
Or, in the pause, when harsher sounds are mute, 
The mellow breathings of some horn or flute, 
That far oiF, broken by the eagle note 
Of th' Abyssinian trumpet,* swell and float! 

Who leads this mighty army? — ask ye "who?" 
' And mark ye not those banners of dark hue, 
The Night and Shadow,! over yonder tent?— 
It is the Caliph's glorious armament. 
Rous'd in his palace by the dread alarms, 
That hourly came, of the false Prophet's arms, 
And of his host of infidels, who hurl'd 
Defiance fierce at Isiam | and the world ; — 
Though worn with Grecian warfare, and behind 
The veils of his bright palace calm reclin'd. 
Yet brook'd he not such blasphemy should sta,in, 
Thus unreveng'd, the evening of his reign. 
But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave § 
To conquer or to perish, once more gave 

* " This trumpet is often called in Abyssinia,. 
nesser cano, which signifies the note of the Eagle.'' 
Note ofBruce^s editor. 

t The two black standards borne before Caliphs 
of the House of Abbas were called allegorically, the 
Night and the Shadow, v. Gibbon, 

t The Mahometan Religion. 

§ "The Persians swear by the Tomb of Shah Bp- 
sade, who is buried at Casbin ; and when one de- 
sires another to asseverate a matter, he will ask if ii« 
dare swear by the Holy Grave. Stru!< . 



il 



34 LLALLA ROOKH. 

His shadowy banners proudly to the breeze. 
And with an army, nurs'd in victories, 
Here stand to crush the rebels that o'er-iun 
His blest and beauteous Province of the Stin. 



Ne'er did the march ofMAHADi display 
U',\ Such pomp before ; — not ev'n when on his way 
^} I To Mecca's Temple, when both land and sea 
t- 1 \ Were spoiled to feed the pilgrim's luxury ;* 

When round him, mid the burning sands he saw 
Fruits of the North in icy freshness thaw, 
And cool'd his thirsty lip beneath the glow 
Of Mecca's sun with urns of Persian snow:! — 
Nor e'er did armament more grand than that 
Pour from the kingdoms of the Caliphat. 
First, in the Tan, the People of the Rock, t 
On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock ; § 
Then chieftains of Damascu?, proud to see 
Tbe flashing of their swords' rich marquetry ; \\ 
Men from the regions near the Volga's mouth, 
Mix'd with the rude, black archers of the South ; 

'^ Mahadi,in a single pilgrimage to Mecca, expended 
,^ix millions of dinars of gold. 

t Nivem Mcccom apportavit, rem ibi aut nunquani 
3i{t raro visam. Abulfeda, 

I The inhabitants of Hejas or Arabia Petrae, called 
by an Eastern writer * ' The People of the Rock." 

JSbn HaukaL 

^ Those horses, called by the Arabians, Kochlani, 

of whom a written geneology has been kept for 2000 

years. They are said to derive their origin from King 

.Solomon's steeds. Niebuhr. 

II Many of the figures on the blades of then* swords, 
are wrought in gold or silver, or in marquetry witl 
•!nall gems. Jsiat, Mis, vi, 



I 






LLALLA ROOKH. Zt 

And Indian lancers, in white turban'd ranks 
From the far Sind£, or Attock's sacred banks^ 
With dusky legions from the land of Myrrh, * 
And many a mace-arm'd Moor and Mid-Sea islan- 
der. 

Nor less in number, though more new and rude 
In warfare's school, was the vast multitude 
That, fir*d by zeal, or by oppression wrong'd. 
Round the white standard of th^ Imposter throng'd 
Beside his thousands of Believers, — blind, 
Burning and headlong as the Samiel wind, — 
Many who felt, and more who fear'd to feel 
The bloody Islamite's converting steel, 
Flock'd to his banner; — chiefs of the Uzbek race. 
Waving their heron crests with martial grace t; 
Turkomans, countless as their flocks, led forth 
From th* aromatic pastures of the North ; 
Wild warriors of the torquoise hills|: — and those 
Who dwell beyond the ever lasting snows 
Of Hindoo Kosh§ in stormy freedom bred. 
Their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed. 
But none of all who owned the Chieffl command, 
Rush'd to that battle-field with bolder hand. 
Or sterner hate than Iran's outlaw'd men, 

* Azab or Saba, 

t ** The chiefs of the Uzbek Tartars wear a plume 
of white heron's feathers m their turbans.'' 

Account of Independent Tartar]/: 

X In the mountains of Nishapour and Tons in Kho-< 
rassan, they find torquoises. Ebn Haukal. 

" § For a description of these stupendous ranges OJ 
.mountains v. Elphinestone's CaubuL 



86 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Her worshippers of fire *— all panting then 
For vengeance on the accursed Saracen ; 
Vengeance at last for their dear country spurned, 
Her throne usurp'd, and her bright shrines o'er 

turn'd. 
From Yezd's t eternal Mansion of tlie Fire, 
Where aged saints in dreams of heav*n expire, 
From, Badku, and those fountains of blue flame 
That burn into the Caspian,! fierce they came, 
Careless for what or whom the blow was sped, 
So vengeance triumphed, and their tyrants bled I 

Such was the wild and miscellaneous host, 
That high in air their motley banners tost 
Around the Prophet Chief— all eyes still bent 
Upon that glittering Veil, where'er it went. 
That beacon through the batde's stormy flood, 

* The Ghebers or Guebres, those original natives 
of Persia, who adliered to their ancient faith, the reli- 
gion of Zoroaster, and who, after the conquest of 
their country by the Arabs, were either persecuted at 
home or forced to become wanderers abroad. 

t " Yezd, the chief residence of those ancient na- 
tives, who worship the Sun and the Fire, which lat- 
ter they have carefully kept lighted, without being 
once extinguished for a moment, above 3000 years, 
on a mountain near Yezd, called after Quedah, sig- 
nifying the House or Mansion of the fire. He is 
reckoned Very unfortunate who dies off that moun- 
tain.'' Stephen's Persia, 

t *' When the weather is hazy, the springs of Nep- 
tha [on an island near Baku] boil up higher, anrl the 
Naptha often takes fire on the surface of the earth, and 
runs in a flame into the sea to a distance almost in- 
credible, Hanway on the everlasting Jire at Baku, 



-^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



That rainbow of the field, whose showers were 
' blood! 

Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set, 
' And ris'n again, and found them grappling yet; 
While steams of carnage, in his noon-tide blaze, 
Smoke up to heav'n — hot as that crimson haze. 
By which the prostrate Caravan is aw*d, 
In the red Desert, when the wind's abroad ! 
»* On» Swords of God!" the panting Caliph calls, 
** Thrones for the living — Heav'n for him who falls I 
** On, brave avengers, on," Mokanna cries, 
** And Eblis blast the recreant slave that flies !" 
Now comes the brunt, the crisis of the day — 
They clash — they strive — the Caliph's troops give 

way! 
Moeanna's self plucks the black banner down, 
And now the Orient World's imperial crown 
Is just within his grasp — when, hark, that shout! 
'Some hand hath check' d the flying Moslem's rout, 
And now they turn, they rally — at their head 
A warrior, (like those angel youths who led^ 
Cn glorious panoply of heavn's own mail. 
The champions of the faith through Bedar'.< 

vale,)* 
Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives. 
Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives 
At once the multitudinous torrent back. 
While hope and courage kindle in his track. 
Vnd, at each step, his bloody falchion makes 

* In the great victory gained by Mahomed at Bedarr 
'ic was assisted, say the Mussulmans, by three thou- 
and angels, led by Gabriel, mounted on his horse 
liazum. The Koran and its Commentators. 



p 



LLALLA. ROOKH. 



Terrible vistas through which victory breaks 

In vain Moeanna, midst the general flight, | ) 

Stands like the red moon, on some stormy night, Jf 

Among the fugitive clouds that hurrying by, 

Leave only her unshaken in the sky 1 

In vain he yells his desperate curses out, 

Deals death promiscuously to all about, 

To foes that charge and coward friends that fly. 

And seems of all the great Arch-enemy ! 

The panic spreads — " a miracle !" througho;Ut 

The Moslem ranks, " a miracle !" they shout 

All gazing on that youth, whose coming seems 

A light, a glory, such as breaks in dreams ,* 

And every sword, true as o'er billows dim 

The needle tracks the load-star, following him! 



Right tow'rds Mokanna now he cleaves his path 
Impatient cleaves, as though the bolt of wrath 
He bears from Heav'n withheld its awful burst 
From weaker heads, and souls but half-way corstv 
To break o'er him the mightiest and the worst ! 
But vain his speed — though, in tliathour of bloody. 
Had all God's seraphs round Mokanna stood, 
With swords of fire, ready like fate to fall, 
Mokanna's soul would have defied them all ; — 
Yet now the rush of fugitives, too strong 
For human force, hurries ev'n him along ; 
In vain he struggles mid the wedg'd array 
Of flying thousands, — he is borne away; 
And the sole joy his baflled spirit knows 
In this forc'd flight is — murdering, as he goes! 
As a grim tiger, whom the torrents might 
Surprizes in some parch'd ravine at night, I 

Turns, ev'n in drowning, on the wretched flock» 



w 



LLALLA ROOKH. 89 

Swept with him in that snow-flood from the rocks, 
And, to the last, devouring on his way, 
^bodies the stream he hath not power to stay ! 

I " Allail Alia !"— the glad shout renew— 
^^ Alia Akbar!"*— the Caliph's in Merou 
Hang out your guilded tapestry in the streets, 
J And light your shrines and chaunt your ziraleeJs ;t 
The swords of god have triumphMon his throne- 
Tour Caliph sits, and the VeilM Chief hath flown. 
Who does not envy that young warrior now, 
To whom the lord of Islam bends his brow, 
tin all the graceful gratitude of power, 
For his throne's safety in that perilous hour ? 
Who does not wonder, when, amidst th' acclaim 
Of thousands, heralding so heaven his name— 
'Mid all those holier harmonies of fame, 
Which sound along the path of virtuous souls. 
Like music round a planet as it rolls ! 
He turns away coldly, as if some gloom 
Hung o*er his heart no triumphs can illume ; 
Some sightless grief, upon whose blasted gaze 
Though glory's light may play, in vain at plays ? 
Yes wretched Azim ! thine is such a grief; 
Beyond all hope, all terror, all relief; 
A dark cold calm, which nothing now can break , 
Or warm or brighten,— like that Syrian Lake,t 
Upon whose surface morn and summer shed 

* Uff^^H''; ^^ ^^ ^^^^e Arabs, " Alia Akbar !'^ 
says Ockley, means God is most mighty." 

t The ziraleet is a kind of chorus, which the women 
M the East sing upon joyful occasions. 

t The Dead sea, which contains neither animal nos 
vegetable life. 



i>0 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Their smiles in vain, for all beneath is dead! 
Hearts there have been, o*er which this weight of 

woe 
Came by long use of suffering, tame and slow; 
But thine, lost youth! was sudden— over thee 
It broke at once, when all seemM extacy; 
When hope looked up, and saw the gloomy Past 
Melt into splendour, and bliss dawn at last — 
'Twas then, ev'n then o'er joys so freshly blown, 
This mortal blight of misery came down ; 
Ev'n then, the full warm gushings of thy heart 
Were checkM — like faint-drops, frozen as they start 
And there, like them, cold, sunless relics hang, 
Each fixM and chill'd into a lasting pang f 

One sole desire, one passion now remains, 
To keep lifers fever still within his veins, 
Vengeance'.dire vengeance on the wretch wh» 

cast 
O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast. 
For this, when rumours reached him in his flight 
Far, far away, after that fatal night, — 
Rumours of armies, thronging to th* attack 
Of the Veil'd Chief,— for this he wing'd him back, 
Fleet as the vulture speeds to flags unfurl'd, 
And came when allseem'd lost, and wildly hurl'd 
Himself into the scale, and sav'd a world! 
For this he still lives on, careless of all 
The wreaths that glory on his path lets fall: 
For this alone exists— -like lightning-fire 
To speed one bolt of vengeance, and expire! 

But safe as yet that spirit of evil lives; 
With a small band of desperate fugitives. 



Tic- 



LLALLA ROOKH. 91 

The last sole stubborn fragment, left unriven, 
Of the proud host that late stood fronting heaven. 
He gained Merou — breathM a short curse of blood 
O'er his lost throne— -then passed the Jihon's flood* 
And gathering all, whose madness of belief 
Still saw a Saviour in their down-faU*n chief, 
KaisM the white banner within Neksheb's gates, t 
And there, untam'd, th* approaching conqueror 
waits. 

Of all his haram, all that busy hive, 
(Vith music and with sweets sparkling alive, 
tie took but one, the partner of his flight, 
3ne, not for love — not for her beauty's light., ; 
?ov Zelica stood withering midst the gay 
Wan as the blossom that fell yesterday 
?rora th' Alma tree and dies, while overhead 
Fo-day's young flower is springing in its stead ! | 
^0, not for love — the deepest damn'd must he 
I'ouch'd with heaven's glory, ere such fiends as 

he 
van feel one glimpse of love's divinity! 
Jut no, she is his victim ;-— ^/lere lie all 
ler charms for him— -charms that can never pail.> 
Is long as hell within his heart can stir, 
)r one faint trace of heaven is left in her* 
^0 work an angel's ruin,- — to behold 

* The ancient Oxus. f A city of Trasnoxiania- 
X "You never can cast your eyes on this tree, but 
ou meet there either olossoms or fruit ; and as the 
lossom drop& underneath on the ground, (which i^^ 
equently covered with these purple- coloured flow- 
's,) others come forth in their stead," &c, &c» Ni- 









I 



t)2 LLALLA ROOKH. 

As white a page as Virtue e*er unroU'd 

JBlacken, beneath his touch, into a scroll 

Of damning sins, seal'd with a burning soul— 

This is his triumph; this the joy accurst, 

That ranks him among demons all but first ! 

This gives the victim, that before him lies 

Blighted and lost, a glory in his eyes, 

A Jight like that with which hell-fire illumes 

The ghastly, writhing wretch whom it consumes :i 

But other tasks now wait him — tasks that need 
All the deep daringness of thought and deed 
With which the Dives * have gifted him— -for 

mark, 
Over yon plains, which night had else made dark. 
Those lanterns, countless as the winged lights 
That spangle India's fields on showery nights t— 
Tar as their formidable gleams they shed. 
The mighty tents of the beleagurer spread, 
Glimmering along th' horizon's dusky line. 
And thence in nearer circles, till they shine 
Among the founts and groves, o'er which the town 
In all its arm'd magnificence looks down. 
Yet, fearless, from his lofty battlements 
TMoKANNA views that multitude of tents; 
IVay, smiles to think that, though entoil'd, beset, 
IVot less than myriads dare to front him yet ; 
That friendless, throneless, he thus stands at bay, 
Ev'n thus a match for myriads such as they! 
" Oh ! for a sv;eep of that dark angel's wing, 

* The demons of the Persian mythology. 
t Carreri mentions the fire-flies in India durinij the 
rainy season, v. his Travels. 



r-y.-5^^fy #..•■:■ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 9a 

Who brush'dthe thousands of th' Assyrian king"* 
To darkness in a moment, that I might 
' 'People hell's chambers with yon host to-night! 
• But come what may, let who will grasp the 

"throne, 
' Caliph or prophet, man alike shall groan ; 

* Let who will torture him, priest — caliph— -king- 
Alike this loathsome world of his shall ring 

"' With victims' shrieks andhowlingsof the slave,— 
' Sounds that shall glad me ev'n within my grave,' 
Thus to himself- — but to the scanty train 
.j^till left around him, a far different strain :— 

* Glorious defenders of the sacred crown 

bear from heav'n, whose light nor blood shall 

"drown, 
or shadow of eailli eclipse ,* — before whose 

" gems 

* Ihe paly pomp of this world's diadems, 

' The crown of Gerashid, thepillar'd throne 
f Parvizjt and theiieron crest that shone, |: 
agnificent, o'er Ali's beauteous eyes, § 
ide like the stars when morn is in the skies : 

Sennacherib, called by the orientals King of Mous 
D'Herhelot. 
; Chosroes. For the description of his throne ot 
palace, v. Gibbon and D^HerheloL 
1 " The crown of Gerashid is cloudy and tarnished 
re the heron tuft of thy Turban.'' From one of 
jlegies or songs in praise of Ah, written in Cha • 
3rs of gold round the gallery of Abbas's tomb, v, 
rdin. 

The beauty of Ali's eyes was so remarkable, that 
(levcr the Persians would describe any thing as 
lovely, they say it is Ayn Hali, or the eyes of Ali,. 

Chardinr 
E 



94 LLALLA ROOKH. 

"Warriors, rejoice— -the port, to whicli we'\ 

''pass'd 
*' 0*er destiny's dark wave, beams out at last I 
'' Victory's our own — 'tis written in that book 
*' Upon whose leaves none but the angels look, 
'* That Islam's sceptre shall beneath the power 
"Of her great foe fall broken in thru hour, 
" When the moon's mighty orb, before all eyes, 
'*From Neksheb's holy well portentously shall 

*' rise 1 
" Now turn and see!"— - 

They tum'd, and, as he spokq, 
A sudden splendour all around them broke, 
And they beheld an orb, ample and bright, 
Rise from the holy well, and cast its light 
Round the rich city and the plain for miles,* 
Flinging such radiance o'er the gilded tiles 
Of many a dome and fair-roofd minaret, 
As autumn suns shed round them when they set ; 
Instant fiom all who saw th' illusive sign 
A murmur broke — "Miraculous I divine!" 
The Gheberbow'd, thinkinj^ his idol star 
Had wak'd, and burst impatient through the bar 
Of midnight, to inflame him to the war! 
While he of Moussa's creed saw, in that ray, 
The glorious light which, in bis freedom's day, 



* " II amusa pendant deux mois le peuple de la viiie 
deNekhsheben faisant sortir toutes les nuits dufonds 
d'unpuits un corps lumineux semblable a la Lune,qui 
portait sa lumiere jusqu' a la distance de plusieurs 
miles." D^Herbelot. Hence he was called Saien- 
deh mah, or the moon-maker. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 05 

Had rested on the ark, * and now again 
Shone out to bless the breaking of his chain I 

** To victory !" is atence the cry of all- — 
Nor stands Mokanna loitering at that call; 
But instant the huge gates are flung aside, 
And forth, like a diminutive mountain tide 
Into the boundless sea, they speed iheir course 
Right on into the Moslem's mighty force. 
The watchmen of the camp, who, in their rounds. 
Had paus'd and ev'n forgot the punctual sounds 
Of the small drum with which they count the 

night, t 
To gaze upon that supernatural light, 
Now sink beneath an unexpected arm. 
And in a death-groan give their last alarm. 
" On for the lamps, that light yon lofty screen, + 
**Nor blunt your blades with massacre so mean; 
^* There rests the Caliph — speed — one lucky 

*' lance 
May now atfchieve mankind's deliverance !" 
Desperate the die- — such as they only cast, 
Who venture for a world, and stake their last. 
But fate's no longer with him — blade for blade 
Springs up to meet them through the glimmering 

shade, 

■^ The Shechinah, called Sakinat in the Koran. ■ 

v. Sale''s NotCf chap. ii. 

t The parts of the night are made known as well by 
instruments of music, as by the rounds of the watch- 
men with cries and small drums, v. Burder's Orien- 
tal Customs, vol. ii. p. 119 

X The Serrapurda, high screens of red cloth, stiffen- 
ed with cane, used to enclose a considerable space 
round the royal tents. Notes on the Bahardamtsk. 



:3G LLALLA ROORtl. 

And, as the clash is heard, new legions soon 
Four to the spot, like bees of Kauzeroon * 
To the shrill timbrePs summons,- — till, at lengthy 
The mighty camp swarms out in all its strength, 
And back to Neksheb's gates, covering the plain 
With random slaughter, drives the adventurous 

train ; 
Among the last of whom, the Silver Veil 
Is seen glittering at times, like the white sail 
Of some tossM vessel, on a stormy night, 
Catching the tempest's momentary light! 

And hath not this brought the proud spirit low 1 
Nor dash'd his brow, nor check'd his daring ? no. 
Though half the wretches, whom at night he led 
To thrones and victory, lie disgracM and dead, 
Yet morning hears him, with unshrinking crest, 
Still vaunt of thrones and victory to the rest ; 
And they believe him ! — oh, the lover may 
Distrust that look which steals hissoulaway ; 
The babe may cease to think that it can play 
With heaven's rainbow ; alchymists may doubt 
The shining gold their crucible gives out, 
But faith, fanatic faith, once wedded fast 
To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last. 

And well th' impostor knew all lures and arts, 
That Lucifer e'er taught to tangle hearts ; 
Nor, 'mid these last, bold workings of his plot 
Against men's souls, is Zelica forgot. 
Ill-fated Zelica ! had reason been 

* " Prom the groves of orange trees at Kauzeroon, 
^he he^s cull a celebrated honey .^* Morier*s Trtm^eU, 



^f 'r^;9^f-: 



LLALLA ROOKIL 

Awake, through half the horrors thou hast seen, 

Thou never couldst have borne it — death had come 

At once and taken thy wrung spirit home. 

But *twas not so — a torpor, a suspense 

Of thought, almost of life, came o'er th' intense 

And passio'Jate snuggles of that fearful night, 

When her last hope of peace and heav'n took 

m ht; 
And thoui h, at times, a gleam of frenzy broke, — 
As through some dull volcano's veil of smoke 
Ominous flashings now and then will start, 
Which show the fire's still busy at its heart ; 
Vet was she mostly wrapp'd in sullen gloom, — 
Not such as Azim's, brooding o'er its doom, 
And calm without, as is the brow of death. 
While busy worms are gnawing underneath ! — 
£u( in a blank and pulseless torpor, free 
From thou:(ht or pain, a seal'd up apathy, 
Which left her oft, with scarce one living thrill. 
The cold, pale victim of her torturer's will. 

Again, as in Merou, he had herdeck'd 
Gorgeously out, the priestess of the sect; 
And led her glittering forth before the eyes 
Of his rude train, as to a sacrifice; 
Pallid as she, the young, devoted bride 
Of the fierce Nile, when deck'd in all the pride 
Of nuptial pomp, she sinks into his tide !* 

* " A custom still subsisting at this day, seems to 
me to prove that the Egyptians formerly sacrificed a 
young virgin to the god of the Nile ; for they now 
make a statue of earth in shape of a girl, to which 
they give the name of the Betrothed Bride, and throw 
it into the river." Savary. 




98 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And while the wretched maid hung down her head, 
And stood, as one just risen from the dead, 
Amid that gazinj? crowd, the fiend would tell 
His credulous shves it was some charm or spell 
Possess'd her now, — and fioin that darkenM trance 
Should dawn ere long^ their faith's deliverance. 
Oj if, at times, goaded by guilty shame, 
Her soul was rous'd, and words of wildness came, 
Instant the bold blasphemer would translate 
Her ravings into oracles of fate. 
Would hail heav'n's signals in her flashing eyes, 
And call her shrieks the language of the skies! 

But vain at length his arts — despair is seen 
Gathering around ; and famine comes to glean 
Ail that the sword i-ad left unreap'd: — in vain 
At morn an'l eve across the northern plain 
He looks impatient for the promis'd spears 
Of the wild hordes and Tartar mountaineers; 
They come not — while his fierce beleagurers pour 
Engines of havoc in. unknown before, 
And horrible as new;* javelins, that fly 
Enwreath'd with smoky flames through the dark 

sky 
And red-hot globes that, opening as they mount, 
Discharge, as from a kindled Naptha fount. 
Showers of consuming fire o'er all below, 
Looking, as through th' illumin'd night they go, 

* The Greeks' fire, which was occasionally lent by 
the emperors to their alhes. "It was," says Gibbon, 
" either launched in red-hot balls of stone and iron, 
or darted in arrows and javelins, twisted round with 
flax and tow, which had deeply imbibed the inflamma°> 
ble oil." 



4 LLALLA ROOKH. 99 

Like those wild birds* that by the Magiacs oft, 
At testivals of fire, were sent aloft 
Into the air, with blazing faggots tied 
To their huge Avings, scattering combustion wide ! 
All night, the gronns of wretches who expire, 
In agony, beneath these darts of fire, 
Ring through the city — while, descending o'er 
Its shrines and domes and streets of sycamore; — 
Its lone bazaars, with their bright cloths of gold. 
Since the last peaceful pageant left nnroird;— 
Its beauteous marble baths, whose idle jets 
Now gush with blood; — and its tall minarets, 
That late have stood up in the evening glare 
Of the red sun, unhallowM by a prayer; — 
O'er each in turn, the dreadful flame-bolts fall. 
And death and conflagration throughout all 
The desolate city hold high festival I 

MoKANNA sees the world is his no more;— 
One sting at parting, and his grasp is o'er. 
^' What! drooping now?" — thus, with unblushing 

cheek, 
He hails the few, who yet can hear him speak, 
Of all those famish'd slaves, around him lying, 
And by the light of blazing temples dying; — 

* " At the great festival of fire, called the Sheb. 
Seze, they used to set fire to large bunches of dry com- 
bustibles, fastened round wild beasts and birds, which 
bemg then let loose the air and earth appeared one 
great illumination ; and as these terrified creatures 
naturally fled to the wood for shelter, it is easy to con- 
<;eive the conflagrations they produced." — 

Richardson's Dissertation. 



100 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" What! drooping now ? — now, when at length Ave 

" press 
" Home o'er the very threshold of success; 
^' When Alla from our ranks haththinn'd away 
'' Those grosser brnnches that kept out his ray 
" Of favour from us, and we stand at length 
" Heirs of his light and children of his strength, 
"■ The chosen few who shall survive the fall 
"Of Kings and Thrones triumphant over all! 
^' Have youthen lost, weak murmurers as you are, 
*' All faith in him, who was your Light, your Star? 
** Have you forgot the eye of glory, hid 
" Beneath this Veil, the flashing of whose lid 
*' Could, like a sun-stroke of the desert, wither 
*' Millions of such as yonder Chief bnngs hither? 
" Long have its lightnings slept — too long — but 

*' now 
' All earth shall feel th' unveiling of this brow! 
' To-nigiit — yes, sainted men this very night, 
*' I bid you all to a iair festal rite, 
'Where, — having deep refresh'd each weary 

" limb 
' With viands such as feast Heaven's cherubim, 
'' And kindled up your souls, now sunk and dim, 
" With that pure wine the dark-ey'd maids above 
" Keep, seal'd witii precious musk, for those they 

" love,*— 
' I will myself uncurtain in your sight 
" The wonders of .his brow's ineffable light; 
* Then lead you forth, and with a wink disperse 
' Yon myriads^ howling through the universe !" 

* " The righteous shall be given to drink of pure 
wine, sealed ; the seal whereof shall be musk. " 

Kormiy chap. Ixxxiii. 



LLALLA ROOKH, 101 

Eager they listen- — while each accent darts 
New life into their chill'd and hope-sick hearts : 
Such treacherous life as the cool draught suppiie? 
To him upon the stake, who drinks and dies! 
Wildly they point their lances to the light 
Of the fast sinking sun, and shout " to-night 1" 
" To-night," their chief re-echoes, in a voice 
Of fiend-like mockery that bids hell rejoice ! 
Deluded victims ! never hath this earth 
Seen mourning half so mournful as their mirth ; 
Here^ to the few, whose iron frames had stood 
This racking waste of famine and of blood, 
Faint, dying wretches clung, from whom the shout 
Of triumph, like a maniac's laugh broke out; 
There, others, lighted by the smouldering fire, 
DancM, like wan ghosts about a funeral pyre, 
Among the dead and dying, strewM around;— 
While some pale wretch look'd on, and from hiy 

wound 
Plucking the fiery dart by which he bled. 
In ghastly transport wav'd it o'er his head ! 

'Twas more than midnight now — a fearful pause 
Had foUow'd the long shouts, the wild applause. 
That lately from those royal gardens burst, 
Where the VeilM demon held his feast accurst. 
When Zelica- — alas poor ruin'd heart. 
In every horror doom'd to bear its part ! — 
Was bidden to the banquet by a slave. 
Who, while his quivering lip the summons gave^ 
Grew black, as though the shadows of the grave 
Compass'd him round, and, ere he could repeat 
His message through, fell lifeless at her feet ! 
E 2 



;.ALLA ROOKH. 

Shiiddenng she went — a soul-felt pang of fear, 
A presage that her own dark doom was near, 
Roiis'd every feeling, and brought reason back 
Once more, to writhe her last upon the rack. 
All round seem'd tranquil — ev'n the foe had ceased, 
As if aware of that demoniac feast, 
His fiery bolts ; and though the heav'ns lookM red, 
'Twas but some distant conflagration's spread, 
But hark ! — she stops — she listens — dreadful tone I 
'Tis her tormentor's laugh — and now, a groan, 
A long death-groan comes with it — can this be 
The place of mirth, the bower of revelry? 
She enters. • Holy Alia, what a sight 
Was there before her ! by the glimmering light 
Of the pale dawn, mixM with the flare of brands 
That round lay burning, droppM from lifeless hands, 
She saw the board in splendid mockery spread. 
Rich censers breathing — garlands overhead, — 
The urns, the cups, from which they late had 

quaflPd, 
All gold and gems, but — what had been the 

draught ? 
Oh ! who need ask, that saw those livid guests. 
With their swoU'n heads sunk blackening on their 

breasts, 
Or looking pale to heaven with glassy glare, 
As if they sought but saw no mercy tliere ; 
As if they felt, though poison rack'd them through, 
Remorse the deadlier torment of the two ; 
While some, the bravest, hardiest in the train 
Of their fiilse chief, who on the batde-plain 
Would have met death with transport by his side, 
Here mute and helpless gasp'd ; but as they died, 



w^rr 



LLALLA ROOKH. 10? 

Look'd horrible vengeance with their eyes' last 

strain, 
And clenchMthe slackenin;]: hand at him in vain. 

Dreadful it was to see the ghastly stare, 
The stony look of horror and despair, 
Which some of these expiring victims cast 
Upon their souls' tormentor to the last ; — 
Upon that mocking fiend, whose Veil, nowrais'd, 
ShowM them as in death's as^ony they gaz'd. 
Not the lohg proinis'd light, the brow, whose beamv 

ing 
Was to come forth, all conquering, all redeeming, 
But features horribler than hell e'er trac'd 
On its own brood ; — no demon of the waste,* 
No church-yard ghole, caught lingering in the 

liuht 
Of the bless'd sun, e'er blasted human s'ght 
With lineaments so foul, so fierce as those 
Th' impostor now, in grinning mockery, shows — 
*' There, ye wise saints, behold your Light, your 

" Star,— 
" Ye would be dupes and victims, and ye are. 
" Is it enough ? or mus( I while a thrill 
" Lives in your sapient bospms, cheat you still ? 
*' Swear that the burning'death ye feel within, 
" Is but the trance, with which heav'n's joys be- 

*'gin; 

* " The Afghauns believe each of the numerous 
solitudes and deserts of their country, to be inhabited 
by a lonely demon, whom they call the Ghoolee Beea- 
bau, or spirit of the waste. They often illustrate the 
wildness of any sequester'd tribe, by saying, they are 
wild as the Demon of the Waste." Elphinstonc 
CauhuU 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

*' That this foul visaore, foul as e'er disgracM 
"Ev'n monstrous man, is — after God's own taste ; 
" And that — but see ! — ere I have half-way said 
" My greetings through, th' uncourteous souls are 

" fled. 
'* Farewell, sweet spirits! not :n vain ye die, 
" If Eblis loves you half so well as I. — 
"Ha, my young bride! — 'tis well — take thou thy 

**seat; 
'' Nay come — no shuddering — didst thou never 

*' meet 
"The dead before? — They grac'd our weddings 

" sweet! 
" And these, my guests to-night, have brimm'd so 

" true 
" Their parting cups, that thou shalt pledge one 

** too. 
" But — how is this ? — all empty ? all drunk up ? 
" Hot lips have been before thee in the cup, 
** Young bride, — yet stay — one precious drop re- 

** mains, 

" Enough to warm a gentle priestess' veins; 

" Here, drink — and should thy lover's conquering 

" arms 
" Speed hither, ere thy lip lose all its charms, 
" Give him but half this venom in thy kiss, 
** And I'll forgive my haughty rival's bliss ! 

" For me — I too must die — but not like these 
"Vile, rankling things, to fester in the breeze j 
"To have this brow in ruffian triumph shown, 
"With all death's grimoess added to its own, 
" And rot to dust beneath the taunting eyes 
* Of slaves, exclaiming * There his godship lies I* 



TtB 



LLALLA KOOKH. 105 

«-IVo — cursed race — since first my soul drew breath, 
"They've been my dupes, and shall be, eVn in 

*• death. 
"Thou see'st yon cistern in the shade — 'tisfill'd 
** With burning drugs, for this last hour distill'd; 
"There will I plunge me in that liquid flame ! 
" Fit bath to lave a dying prophet's irame ! 
" There perish, all- — ere pulsa of thine shall fail— 
*' Nor leave one limb to tell mankind the tale. 
"So shall my votaries, wheresoe'er they rave, 
"Proclaim that heav'n took back the saint it gave; 
" That I've but vanish'd from this earth awhile, 
" To come again, with bright, unshrouded smile I 
" So shall they build me altars in their zeal, 
" Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall 

"kneel; 
" Where Faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell 
" Written in blood, and Bigotry may swell 
" The sail he spreads for heav'n with blasts from 

"hell! 
" So shall my banner, through long ages, be 
"The rallying sign of fraud and anarchy; 
" Kings yet unborn shall rue Mokanna's name, 
" And, though I die, my spirit, still the same, 
" Shall walk abroad in all the stormy strife, 
" And guilt, and blood, that were its bliss in life ! 
" But hark ! their battering engine shakes the 

*' wall-— 
" Why, let it shake — thus I can brave them all. 
" No trace of me shall greet them, when they 

'* come, 
** And I can trust thy faith, for — thou'lt be dumb. 
" Now mark how readily ♦ wretch like me, 
•" In one bold plunge, commences deity !"-— 



10.6 LLALLA ROOKH. 

He sprung and sunk, as the last words wdrt 
said — 
Quick clos'd the burning waters o*er his head, 
And Zelica was left- — within the ring 
Of those wide walls the only living thing, 
The only wretched one, still curst with breath, 
In all that frightful wilderness of death ! 
More like pome bloodless ghost, such as, they tell, 
In the lone Cities of the Silent* dwell, 
And there, unseen of all but Alia, sit 
Each by its own pale carcass, watching it. 

But morn is up, and a fresh warfare stirs 
Throughout the camp of the beleaguerers. 
Their globes of fire, (the dread artillery lent 
By Greece to conquering; Mahadi,) are spent; 
And now the scorpion's shaft, the quarry sent 
From high balisras, and the shielded throng 
Of soldiers swinging the huge ram along, — 
All speak th' impatient IsUimite'a intent 
To try, at length, if lower and ban lenient 
And bastion'd wall be not less hard to v/in, 
Less tough to break down than the hearts within. 
First in impatience and in toil is he, 
The burning Azim — oh ! could he but see 
Th' impostor once aliv" within his grasp. 
Not the gaunt lion's hug, nor Boa's clasp, 
Could match the gripe of vengeance or keep pace 
With the fell heartines of hate's embrace ! 

* '*They have all a great reverence for burial- 
grounds, which they sometimes call by the poetical 
name of Cities of the silent, and which they people 
with the ghosts of the departed, who sit each at the 
head of his own grave, invisible to mortal eyes." 
JElphinstone. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 107 

Loud rings the pondVous ram against the watts; 
Now shake the ramparts, now a buttress falls, 
But stil! no breach — " once more, one mighty awing 
"Of all your beams, together thundering!" 
Tiiere- — the wall shakes- — the shouting troops ex- 
ult-— 
'* Quick, quick discharge your weightiest catapult 
** Right on that spot, and Neksheb is our own!"-— 
'Tis done- — the battlements come crashing down, 
And the huge wall, by that stroke riv'n in two, 
Yawning, like some old crater rent anew, 
Shows the dim, desolate city smoking through ! 
But strange ! no signs of life — nought living seen 
Above, below — what can this stillness mean ? 
A minute's pause suspends all hearts and eyes — 
*'In through the breach," impetuous AziM cries; 
But the cool Caliph, fearful of some wile 
In this blank stillness, checks the troops awhile. — 
Just then, a figure, with slow step, advanc'd 
Forth from the ruiu'd walls; and, as there glanc'd 
A sun-beam over it, all eyes could see 
The well-known Silver Veil!-— " 'Tis he, 'tis he^ 
" MoKANNA, and alone !" they shout around ; 
Young AziM from his steed springs to the ground — 
"Mine, Holy Caliph ! mine," he cries, '* the task 
*^ To crush yon daring wretch — 'tis all I ask." 
Eao;«r he darts to meet the demon foe, 
Who still across wide heaps of ruin slow 
And falteringly comes, till they are near ; 
Then, with abound, rushes on Az^im's spear, 
And, casting off the Veil in falling, shows — 
Oh !— -'tis his ZiIuca's iife-blcod that flows! 



m LLALLA ROOKH. 

" I meant not, Azim," soothingly she said, 
As on his trembling arm she lean'd her head, 
And, looking in his face, saw anguish there 
Beyond all wounds the quivering flesh can bear— - 
*' I meant not thou should'st have the pain of this; 
*' Though death, with thee thus tasted, is a bliss 
"Thou would' st not rob me of, didst thou but know 
** How oft I've pray'd to God I might die so ! 
" Bat the fiend's venom was too scant and slow;-^ 
"To linger on were maddening, and I thought 
"If once that Veil— -nay, look on it- — caught 
" The eyes of your fierce soldiery, I should be 
" Struck by a thousand death-darts instantly. 
" But this is sweeter — oh! believe me, yes — - 
"I would not change this sad, but dear caresSj 
" This death within thy arms I would not give 
'■ For the most smiling life the happiest live ! 
** All that stood dark and drear before the eye 
** Of my stray'dsoul, is passing swiftly by ; 
*' A light comes o'er me from those looks of love, 
" Like the first dawn of mercy from above ; 
*' And if thy lips but tell me I'm forgiv'n, 
" Angels will echo the blest words in heaven ! 
" But live, my Azim ;- — oh ! to call thee mine 
*' Thus once again ! my Azim;— -dream divine*. 
*' Live, if thou ever lov'dst me, if to meet 
" Thy Zelica hereafter would be sweet, 
"Oh live to pray for her — to bend the knee 
" Morning and night before that Deity, 
<' To whom pure lips and hearts without a stain, -« 
'-' As thine are, Azim, never breath'd in vain, 
*' And pray that he may pardon her, — may takfe 
^ Compassion on her soul for thy dear sake, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 10!^ 

"And, nought remembering but her love to thee, 

" Make her all thine, all his, eternally I 

*' Go to those happy fields where first we twin'd 

" Our youthful hearts together — every wind 

" That meets thee there, fresh from the well-known 

" flowers, 
*' Will bring the sweetness of those innocent hours 
' ' Back to thy soul, and thou may'st feel again 
*' For thy poor Zelic a as thou did'st then. 
"So shall thy orisons, like dew that flies 
"To heav*n upon the raorning^s sunshine, rise 
*' With all love's earliest ardour to the skies! 
" And should they — but sdas ! my senses fail — 
"Oh for one minute! — should thy prayers pro- 

"vail— - 
" If pardonM souls may from that world of bliss 
" Reveal their joy to those they love in this, — 
"I'll come to thee — in some sweet dream — and 

" tell— - 
"Oh heaven — I die — dear love t farewell, fare- 

"well." 

Time fleeted — years on years had pass'd away, 
And few of those who, on that mournful day. 
Had stood, with pity in their eyes, to see 
The maiden's death, and the youth's agony, 
Were living still— when, by a rustic grave 

' Beside the swift Amoo's transparent wave, 
And aged man, who had grown aged there, 

1 By thatlone grave, morning and night in prayer. 
For the last time knelt down— and, though the 

shade 
Of death hung darkening over him, there play'd 



110 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



A gleam of rapture on his eye and cheek, 

That brightenMeven death — like the last streak 

Of intense glory on th' horizon's brim, 

When night o'er all the rest hangs chill and dim, — 

His soul had seen a vision, while he slept; 

She for whose spirit he bad pray'd and wept 

So many years, had come to him, all drest 

In angels' smiles, and told him she was blest! 

For this the old man breath'd his thanks, and 

died, — 
And there, upon the banks of that lov'dtide^ 
He and his Zelica sleep side by side. 



LLALLA ROOKH. Ill 



The story of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan 
being ended, they were now doomed to hear Fad- 
LADEEn's criticisms upon it. A series of disap- 
pointments and accidents had occurred to this learn- 
ed chamberlain during the journey. In the first 
place, those couriers stationed, as in the reign of 
Shah Jehan, between Delhi and the Western coast 
of India, to secure a constant supply of mangoes for 
the royal table, had, by some cruel irregularity, fail- 
ed in their duty ; and to eat any maugoes but those 
of Mazagong was, of course, impossible. In the 
next place the elephant, laden with his fine antique 
porcelain, had in an unusual fit of liveliness, shat- 
tered the whole set to pieces : an irreparable loss, 
as maiy of the vessels were so exquisitely old as to 
have been used under the emperors Yan and Chun, 
who reigned many ages before the dynasty of Tang. 
His Koran too, supposed to be the identical copy 
between the leaves of which Mahomet's favourite 
pigeon us\t d to nestle, had been mislaid by his Ko- 
rau-bearer three whole days; not without much 
spiritual alarm to Fadladeen, who, though pro- 
fessing to hold with other loyal and orthodox Mus- 
sulmans, that salvation could only be found in the 
Koran, was strongly suspected of believing in his 
heart, that it could only be found in his own parti- 
cular copy of it. When to all these grievances is 
added the obstinacy of the cooks, in putting the 
pepper of Canara into his dishes instead of the cin- 
namon of Serendib. we may easily suppose that 
he came to the task of criticism with, at least, a 
sufficient degree of irritability for the purpose. 

** In order," said he, importantly swinging about 
Ills chaplet of pearls, " to convey with clearness 
jny opinion of the story this young man has related, 
it is necessary to take a review of all the stories 
that has ever — ** My good Fadladeen !" exclaim- 
ed the princess interrupting him, '* we really do not 
deserve that you should give yourself so much trou- 
ble. Your opinion of the poem we have just heard, 



112 LLALLA ROOKH. 

will, T have no doubt, be abundantly edifyingr, with- 
out any further waste of your valuable erudition." ' 
" If that be all," replied the critic, evidently morti- 
iied at not being allowed to show how much he 
knew about every thing but the subject immediately 
before him ; — " If that be all that is required, the 
matter is easily despatched." He then proceeded ] 
to analyse the poem, in that strain, (so well known ' 
to the unfortunate bards of Delhi,) whose censures j 
were an infliction from which few recovered, and I 
whose very praises were like the honey extracted ! 
from the bitter flowers of the aloe. The chief per- 
sonages of the story were, if he rightly understood 
them, an ill-favoured gentleman, with a veil over his 
face ; — a young lady, whose reason went and came 
according as it suited the poet's convenience to be 
sensible /)r otherwise ; — and a youth in one of those 
hideous Bucharian bonnets, who took the aforesaid 
gentleman in a veil for a divinity. " From such 
materials," said he, " what can be expected ? — after 
rivalling each other in long speeches and absurdi- 
ties, through some thousands of lines as iifdigestible 
as the filberds of Rerdan, our friend in the veil 
jumps into a tub of aquafortis; the young lady dies 
in a set speech, whose only recommendation is that 
it is her last: and the lo er lives on to a good old 
age, for the laudable purpose of seeing her ghost^ 
which he at last happily accomplishes and expires. 
This, you will allow, is a fair summary of the sto- 
ry ; and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no 
better, our Holy Prophet, (to whom be all honour 
and glory!) had no need to be jealous of his abilities 
for story-telling."* 

* La lecture de ces Fables plaisait si fort aux 
Arabes, que, quand Mahomet les entreteneit de I'His- 
toire de I'Ancien Tertament, ils les meprisaient, lui 
disant que celles que Nasser ieur racontait etoient 
beaucoup plus belles. Cette preference attira a Nas- 
ser la malediction de Mahomet ei de tous ses disci- 
ples. D'HerheloU 



LLALLA ROOKHo it:> 

with respect to the style, it was worthy of the 
hiatter ;-^it had not even those politic contrivances 
of structure, which make up for the commonness of 
the thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner, nor 
that stately poetical phraseology by which senti- 
ments mean in themselves, lil^e the blacksmith's! 
apron converted into a banner, are so easily gilt 
, and embroidered into consequence. Tiien, as to 
the verification, it was to say no worse of it, exe- 
crable : it had neither the copious flow of Ferdosj, 
the sweetness of Hafez, nor the sententious march 
of Sedi; but appeared to him, in the uneasy heavi- 
ness of its movements, to have been modelled upon 
the gait of a very tired dromedary. TJie licences too 
in which it indulged were unpardonable:— for in- 
stance this Imcj and the poem abounded with 
such ;-^ 

Like theTaint,, exquisite music of a dream. 

*< What critic that can count,*' said Fadladeek ? 
** and has his full compliment of fingers to counr 
withal, would tolerate for an instant such syllabic 
superfluities ?" — He here looked round and dis- 
covered that most of his audience were asleep ; 
while the glimmering lamps seemed inclined to 
follow their example. It became necessary there- 
fore, however painful to himself, to put an end to hk. 
valuable animadversions for the present, and he 
accordingly concluded, with an air of dignified can- 
dour, thuts; '* notwithstanding the observation^ which 
[ have thought it my duly to make, it is by no 
means my wish to discourage the young man ; so 
•ar from it, indeed, thnt if he will but totally fJter 
{lis style of writing and thinking, I nave very little 
bubt that 1 shall be vastly pleased with him." 

Some days elapsed, after this harangue of the 
preat Chamberlain, before Llalla Rookh could 

* The blacksmith Gao, who successfully resisteci 
he tyrant Zohak, and whose apron became the rov 
il standard of Persia. 



114 LLALLA ROOKH. 

venture to ask for another story. The youth was 
still a welconae guest in the pavilion;— to on6 
heart, perhaps, too dangerously welcome — but all 
mention of poetry was as if ty common consent, 
avoided. Though none of the party had much 
respect for Fadladeen, yet his censures, thus ma- 
gisterially delivered, evidently made an impression 
on them all. The poet himself to whom criticism 
was quite a new operation, (being wholly unknown 
in that Paradise of the Indies, Cashmere,) felt the 
shock as it is generally felt at first, till use had 
made it more tolerable to the patient;— the ladies 
began to suspect that they ought not to be pleased, 
and seemed to conclude that there must have been 
much good sense in what Faladeen said, from its 
having set them all so soundly to sleep ; — while the 
self-complacent Chamberlain was left to triumph in 
the idea of havin^^, for the hundred and fiftieth timo 
in his life, extinguished a Poet. Llalla Rookh 
alone — and Love knew why — persisted in being de- 
lighted in all she had heard, and in resolving t 
hear more as speedily as possible. Her manne: 
however, of first returning to the subject was ul 
lucky. It was while they rested during the beat oi 
noon near a fountain, on which some hand had 
rudely traced those well-known words from the 
Garden of Sadi, — *' Many, like me, have viewed 
this fountain, but they are gone and their eyes are 
closed for ever!" — that she took occasion from the 
melancholy beauty of this passage, to dwell upon 
the charms of poetry in general. *' It is true," she 
said, " few poets can imitate that sublime bird, 
which flies always in the air and never touches thti 
earth ;* — it is only once in many ages a Genius ap» 
pears, whose words, like those on the written moun- 
tain, last forever: — but still there are some, as de- 
lightful perhaps, though not so wonderful, who, if 
not stars over our head, are at least flowers aloug 
our path, and whose sweetness of the moment we 

^ The Huma. 



LLALLA ROOKH, 115 

ought gratefully to inhale, without calling upon 
them for a brightness and a durability beyond their 
nature. In short, continued she, blushing, as if 
conscious of being caught in an oration, " it is quite 
cruel that a poet cannot wander through his regions 
of enchantment, without having a critic for ever, 
like the old man of the sea upon his back' '* Fadla- 
DEEN, it was plain, took this last luckless allusion 
to himself, and would treasure it in his mind as a 
whetstone for his next criticism. A sudden silence 
ensued ; and the Princess, glancing a look at FerA' 
MORZ, saw plainly she must wait for a more coura- 
geous moment. 

But the glories of Nature and her wild, fragrant 
airs, playing freshly over the current of youthful 
spirits, will soon heal even deeper wounds than the 
dull Fadladeens of this world can inflict. In an 
evening or two after, they came to the small valley 
of gardens, which had been planted by order of the 
Emperor for his favourite sister Rochinara, during 
their progress to Cashmere, some years before ; and 
never was there a more wsparkling assemblage of 
sweets, since the Gulzar-e-Irem, or Rose-bower of 
Frera. Every precious flower was there to he, found 
that poetry, or love, or religion has ever consecrat- 
ed, from the dark hyacinth, to which Hafez com- 
pares his mistress's hair to the Camalata, by whose 
rosy blossoms the heaven of Indra is scented. As 
they sat in the cool fragrance of this delicious spot, 
and Llalla Rookh remarked that she could fan- 
cy it the abode of that flower-loving nymph whom 
! hey worship in the temples of Kathay, or one of 
those Peris, those beautiful creatures of the air, who 
live upon perfumes, and to whom a place like this 
might make some amends for the paradise they 
have lost, — the young Poet, in whose ejes she ap- 
f»eared, while she spoke, to be one of the bright 
spiritual creatures she was describing, said hesita- 
tingly that he remembered a story of a Peri, which 

^ The Story of Sinbad. 



: li> LLALLA ROOKH. 

if the Princess had no objection, he would venture 
i> relate. " It is, said he, " with an appealing look 
o Fadladeen, " in a lighter and humbler strain 
han ihe other; then, striking a few careless but 

'•f^lnncholy chords or^ his kifar., he thus began :— 



f 



PARADISE AND THE PERI. 



One morn a Peri at the gate 
Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; 
And as she listened to the springs 

Of life within, like music flowing, 
And caught the light upon her wings 

Through the halt-open portal glowing^ 
She wept to think her recreant race 
Should e'er have lost that glorious place ! 

** How happy," exclaimM this child of air, 
'* Are the holy spirits who wander there, 

*' Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall ; 
" Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, 
" And the stars themselves have flowers for me, 

*' One blossom of heaven out-blooms them all ' 

" Though sunny the lake of cool Cashmere, 
'^ With its plane-tree Isle reflected clear,* 

" And sweetly the founts of that valley fall ; 
"Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay, 
f* And the golden floods, that thitherward stray,! 

* " Numerous small islands emerge from the Lake 
of Cashmere. One is called Char Chenaur, from t\m 
plane trees upon it." — torster. 

t '* The Altan Kol, or Golden River of Tibet, whirl^^ 
runs into the lakes of Sing-su-hay, has abundance of 
gold in its sands, which employs the inhabitants all thfi 
F ^^ 



118 LLALLA ROOKH. 

^* Yet— oh 'tis only the blest can say 
" How the waters of heaven outshine tliem all! 

^^ Go wing thy flight from star to star, 
'•From world to luminous world, as far 

^' As the universe spreads its flaming wall ; 
'•' Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 
'* And multiply each through endless years, 
^ "One minute of heaven is worth them all T* 

The glorious angel, who was keeping 
The gates of light, beheld her weeping ; 
And, as he nearer drew and listened 
To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd 
Within his eyelids, like the spray 

From Eden's fountain, when it lies 
On the blue flow'r, which — Bramins say— = 

Blooms no where but in Paradise. 
"Nywiph of a fair, but erring line 1" 
Gently he said — " One hope is thine : 
''*Tis written in the Book of Fate, 

" The Pen yet may be forgiven 
*' Who brings to this eternal gate 

" The Gift that is most dear to Heaven I 
'* Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin ;— 
** *Tis sweet to let thepardon'd in I" 
Rapidly as comets run 
To th' embraces of the sun :— 
Fleeter than the starry brands, 
Flung at night from angels* hands'^ 

summer in gathering iU^^—Description of Tibet tn 
Pinkerton. 

* *' The Mahometans suppose that falling stars arr 
tlic firebrands wherewith the good angels drive awa- 



r 



w:w^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 119 

At those dark and daring sprites, 
Who would climb th' empyreal heights, 
Dewn the blue vault the Peri files, 

And, lighted eaithward by a glance 
That just then broke from morning's eyes, 

Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse* 
But whither shall the spirit go 
To find this gift for heav'n ?— " I know 
"The wealth," she cries, "of every urn, 
" In which unnumber'd rubies burn, 
"Beneath the pillars of Chilminar;^ 
" I know where the Isles of Perfume are 
" Many a fathom down in the sea, 
^' To the south of sun*bright Araby :t 
" I know too where the genii hid 
"Thejewell'd cup of their king Jamshid,t 
" With life's elixir sparkling high — 
"But gifts like these are not for the sky. 
" Where was there ever a gem that shone 
" Like the steps of AUa's wonderful throne ? 
" And the drops of life — oh ! what would tJiey 

"be 
*' In the boundless deep of eternity ?" 

the bad, when they approach too near the empyreum 
or verge of the heavens." Fryer* 

* The Forty Pillars : so the Persians call the ruins 
f>f Persepolis. It is imagined by them that this palace 
^nd the edifices at Balbec were built by a genii, for the 
purpose of hiding in their subterraHeous caverns im 
mense treasures, which still remain there. D^Herhe- 
lot. Volney. 

i f The Isles of Panchaia, 

" + "ThecupofJamshid, discovered, they say, when 
iug for the foundations of Persepolis." Richard - 



120 LLALLA ROOKIT. 

While thus she musM, her pinions fanned 
The air of that sweet Indian land, 
Whose air is balm ; whose ocean spreads 
O'er coral rocks and amber beds ; 
Whose moanlains, pregnant by the beam 
Of the warm sun, with diamonds teem ; 
Whose rivulets are like rich brides, 
Lovely, with gold beneath their tides ; 
Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice 
Might be a Peri's paradise ! 
But crimson now her rivers ran 

With human blood — the smell of death 
Came reeking from those spicy bowers, 
And man, the sacrifice of man, 

Mingled his taint with every breath 
Upwafted from the innocent flowers ! 
Land of the Sun ! what foot invades 
Thy pagods and thy pillar'd shades — 
Thy cavern shrines, and idol stones, 
Thymonarchs and their thousand thrones? 
Tis he of Gazna !* — fierce in wrath 

He comes, and India's diadems 
Lie scatter'd in his ruinous path. — 

His blood-hounds he adorns with gems, 
Torn from the violated necks 

Of many a young and lov'd sultana ;t— 

* Mahmoud of Gazna, or Ghizna, who conquered 
India in the beginning of the 11th. century, v. his 
history in Doio and Sir /. Malcolm, 

t It is reported that the hunting equipage of the sul- 
tan Mahmood was so magnificent, that he kept 400 
ip-ey-hounds and blood-hounds, each of which wore a 
collar set with jewels, and a covering edged with gold 
and pearls. Universal History ^ vol. iii. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 121 

IVIaidens within their pure Zenana, 

Priests in the very fane he slaughters^ 

And choaks up with the glittering wrecks 

Of golden shrines the sacred waters! 

Downward ihe Peri turns her gaze, 
And, through the war-fieid*s bloody haze, 
Beholds a youthful warrior stand, 

Alone, beside his native river, — 
The red blade broken in his hand 

And the last arrow in his quiver. 
** Live," said the conqueror, " live to share 
*'The trophies and the crowns I bear!" 
Silent that youthful warrior stood — 
Silent he pointed to the flood 
All crimson with his country's blood, 
Then sent his last remaiuiog dart 
For answer to th' invader's heart* 
False flew the shaft, though pointed well \ 
The tyrant liv'd, the hero fell !— 
Yet markM the Peri where he lay, 

And when the rush of war was past, 
Swifdy descending on a ray 

Of morning light, she caught the last — 
Last glorious drop his heart had shed, 
Before its free-born spirit fled! 
** Be this," she cried, as she wing'd her flighty 
** My welcome gift at the gates of light. 
*' Though foul are the drops that oft distil 

" On the field of warfare, blood like this, 

" For liberty shed, so holy is, 
" It would not stain the purest rill, 

"That sparkles among the bowers of bliss ! 
" Oh ! if there be, on this earthly sphere, 



122 LLALLA ROOKH. 

'^ A boon, an ofTering heaven holds dear, 

*^ 'Tis the last libation liberty draws 

''From the heart that bleeds and breaks in htr 

" ca«se !" 
'^ Sweet," said the angel, as she gave 

The gift into his radiant hand, 
-' Sweet is our welcome of the brave 

" Who die thus for their native land* — 
''But see— --alas! the crystal bar 
*' Of Eden moves not — holier far 
'Than ev'n this drop the boon must be 
" That opens the gates of heav*n for thee !" 

Her first fond hope of Eden blighted, 
Now among Afric's Lunar Mountains,*^ 

Far to the South, the Peri lighted ; 
And sleekM her plumage at the fountains 

Of that Egyptian tide, whose birth 

Is hidden from the sons of earth, 

Deep in those solitary woods, 

Where all the genii of the floods 

Dance round the cradle ■)f their Nile, 

And hail the new-born giant's smile !t 

Thence, over Egypt's palmy groves, 
Her grots, and sepulchres of kingst 

* "The Mountains of the Moon, or the Montes 
Lunse of antiquity, at the foot of which the Nile is 
supposed to arise." Bruce. 

t " The Nile, which the Ab5^sinians know by the 
names of Abey and Alawy or the Giant." Asiat. 
Researches^ v. i. p. 387, 

X V. Perry'sView of the Levant for an account of 
the sepulchres in upper Thebes, and the numberless 
grots covered all over with hieroglyphics in the moun- 
r ains of Upper Egypt. 



LLALLA ROOKB. 123 

The cxilM spirit sighing roves ; 
And now hangs listening to the doves 
In warm Rosetta's vale* — now loves 

To watch the moonlight on the wings 
Of the white pelicans that break 
The azure calm of Moeris' lake.t 
'Twasa fair scene — a land more brigVit 

Never did mortal eye behold I 
Who could have thought, that saw this night 

Those valleys and their fruits of gold 
Basking in heav'n's serenest light ; — 
Those groups of lovely date-trees bending 

Languidly their leaf-crownM heads, 
Like youthful maids, when sleep descending 

Warns them to their silken beds ;t- — 
Those virgin lilies, 'all the night 

Bathing their beauties in the lake, 
That they may rise more fresh and brighf, 

When their beloved Sun's awake; — 
Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem 
The relics of a splendid dream ; 

Amid whose fairy loneliness 
Nought but the lapwing's cry is heard, 
Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting 
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam,) 
Some purple wingM sultana} sitting; 

* *• The orchards of Rosetta are filled with turtle 
doves." Sonnini, 

I Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Moeris, 

I " The superb date-tree, whose head languidly re- 
clines, like that of a handsome woman overcome with 
.sleep." Dafard el Hadad, 

§ *'That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest 
shining blue, with purple beak and legs, ihe natural 



124: LLALLA ROOKH. 

Upon a column, motionless 
And glittering, like an idol bird ! — 
Who could have thought, that there, eu'n there. 
Amid those scenes so still and fair, 
The Demon of the Plague hath cast 
From his hot wing a deadlier blast, 
More mortal far th^n ever came 
From tb« red desert's sands of flame ? 
So quick, that every living thing 
Of human shape, touch'd by his wing, 
Like plants, where the Simoon hath past, 
At once falls black and withering ! 

The sun went down on many a brow. 
Which, full of bloom and freshness then^ 

Is rankling in the pest-house now 
And ne'er will feel that sun again ! 

And oh ! to see th' unburied heaps 

On which the lonely moonlight sleeps — 

The very vulturca turn away. 

And sicken at so foul a prey I 
Only the fierce hysena stalks* 
Throughout the city's desolate walks 
At midnight, and his carnage plies — 

Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets 
The glaring of those large blue eyest 

Amid the darkness of the streets ! 

and living ornament of the temples and palaces of the 
Greeks and Romans, which, from the stateliness of its 
port, as well as the brilliancy of its colours, has ob- 
tained the title of Sultana." Sonnini, 

* Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in 
West Barbary, when he was there, says, ** The birds 
of the air fled away from the abodes of men. The 
hyaenas, on the contrary, visited the cemeteries, &c.'* 

t JBruce. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 125 

'* Poor race of men !" said the pitying spirit, 

«* Dearly ye pay for your primal fall- — 
^* Some flowrets of Eden ye still inherit, 
** But the trail of the Serpent is over them all l^' 
She wept— the air grew pure and clear 
Around her, as the bright drops ran ; 
For there's a magic in each tear. 
Such kindly spirits weep for man. 

Just then beneath some orange trees, 
Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze 
Were wantoning together, free, 
Like age at play with infancy — 
Beneath that fresh and springing bower, 

Close by the lake, she heard the moan 
Of one who, at this silent hour, 

Had thither stoPn to die alone. 
One who in life, where'er he mov'd. 

Drew after him the hearts of many ; 
Yet now, as though he ne'er were lov'd, 

Dies here,unseen, unwept by any ! 
None to watch near him — none to slake 

The fire that in his bosom lies, 
With ev'n a sprinkle from that lake. 

Which shines so cool before his eyes. 
No voice, well-known through many a day, 

To speak the last, the parting word, 
Which, when all other sounds decay, 

Is still like distant music heard. 
That tender farewell on the shore 

Of this rude world, when all is o^er, 
Which cheers the spirit, e'er its bark 
Puts off into the unknown dark. 
F 2 



I 



126 LLALLA. ROOKH. 

Deserted youth ! one thought alone 

Shed joy around iiis soul in death — 
That she, whom he for many years had known 
And lov'd, and might havecall'd his own. 

Was safe from this foul midnight's breath ; — 
Safe in her father's princely halls, 
Where the cool airs from fountain falls, 
Freshly perfum'd by many a brand 
Of the sweet wood from India's land, 
Were pure as she whose brow tliey fann'd. 
But see, — who yonder comes by stealth, 

This melancholy bower to seek, 
Like a young envoy sent by Health, 

With rosy gifts upon her cheek? 
^Tisshe, — ferofF, through moonlight dim, 

He knew his own betrothed bride. 
She, who would rather die with him, 

Than live to gain the world beside ! — 
Her arms are round her lover now, 

His livid cheek to hers she presses, 
And dips, to bind his burning brow, 

In the cool lake herloosen'd tresses. 
Ah ! once, how little did he think 
An hour would come, when he should shrink 
With horror from that dear embrace, 

Those gentle arms, that were to him 
Holy as is the cradling place 

Of Edin's infant cherubim ! 
And now he yields — now turns away, 
Shuddering as if the venom lay 
All in those proffer'd lips alone — 
Those lips that, then so fearless growo^ 
Never until that instant came 



LLALLA ROOKH. 1:-^ 

Near his unask'd or without shame. 
' Oh ! let me only breathe the air, 

"I'he blessed air tliat's breath'd by thee, 
** And, whether on its wings it bear 

" Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me ! 
" There, drink my tears, while yet they fall,— 

" Would that my bosom's blo6d were balffij 
" And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, 

" To give thy brow one minute's calm. 
''Nay, turn not from me that dear face — 

" Am I not thine — ihy own lov'd bride — 
'* The one, the chosen one, whose place 

" In life or death is by thy side ? 
" Think'st thou that she, whose only light, 

"In this dim world, from thee hath shoncj 
" Could bear the long, the cheerless night, 

♦'That must be hers, when thou art gone 1 
" That I can live, and let thee go, 
' ' Who art my life itself ?— No, no,— 
" When the stem dies, the leaf that grew 
** Out of its heart must perish too ! 
♦' Then turn to me, my own love, turn, 
" Before like thee I fade and burn ; 
** Cling to these yet cool lips, and share 
*' The last pure life that lingers there !" 
She falls-^she sinks — as dies the lamp 
In charnal airs or caveru'damp, 
So quickly do his baleful sighs 
Quench all the sweet light of her eyes ; 
One struggle — and his pain fs past — 

Her lover is no longer living ! 
One kiss the maiden gives, one last. 

Long kiss, which she expires in giving ; 



I 



198 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" Sleep," said the Peri, as softly she stole 
The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, 
As true as e'er warmM a woman^s breast— 
" Sleep on, in visions of odour rest, 
" In balmier airs than ever yet stirrM 
'' Th' enchanted pile of that lonely bird, 
" Who sings at the last his own death-lay,* 
" And in music and perfume dies away l" 

Thus saying, from her lips she spread 

Unearthly breathings through the place, 
And shook her sparkling wreath and shed 

Such lustre o'er each paly face, 
That like two lovely saints they seem'd 

Upon the eve of dooms-day taken 
From their dim graves, in odour sleeping ; — 

While that benevolent Peri beamM 
Like their good angel, calmly keeping 

Watch o'er them till their souls would waken ! 
But morn is blushing in the sky; 

Again the Peri soars above, 
Bearing to heav'n that precious sigh 

Of pure, self-sacrificing love. 
High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate. 

The Elysian palm she soon shall win, 
For the bright spirit at the gate 

SmiPd as she gave that o£fering in ; 

* " In the east, they suppose the Phcenix to have 
fifty orifices in his bUl, which are continued to his tail ; 
and that, after living one thousand years, he builds 
himself a funeral pile, sings a melodious air of differ- 
ent harmonies through his fiily organ pipes, flaps his 
wings with a velocity which sets fire to the wood, 
and consumes himself.— /{tcAarcbcm. 



LLALLA ROOKH, m 

And she already hears the trees 

Of Eden, with their crystal bells 
Ringing in that ambrosial breeze 

That from the throne of Alla. swells; 
And she can see the starry bowls 

That lie around that lucid lake. 
Upon whose banks admitted souls 

Their first sweet draught of glory take l*" 
But ah ! ev'n Peri's hopes are vain— 
Again the Fates forbade, again 
Th* immortal barrier clos'd — " not yet," 
The angel said as, with regret, 
He shut from her that glimpse of glory— 
" True was the maiden, and her story, 
" Written in light o'er Alla's head, 
'^ By seraph eyes shall long be read. 
" But Peri, see — the crystal bar 
" Of Eden moves not — holier far 
'' Than ev'n this sigh the boon must be 
^* That opes the gates of Heav'n for thee." 

Now, upon Syria's land of rosest 
Sofdy the light of eve reposes. 
And, like a glory, the broad sun 
Hangs over sainted Lebanon ; 

* " On the shores of a quadrangular lake staiid a 
thousand goblets, made of stars, out of which souls 
predestined to enjoy felicity drink the crystal ware.*'— 
From Chateaubriand's Description of the Mahome- 
tan Paradise, in his Beauties of Christianity, 

t Richardson thinks that S3Tia had its name from 
Suri, a beautiful and delicate species of rose for which 
that country has been always famous :— hence, Suris- 
tan, the land of roses. 



)30 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, 

And whitens with eternal sleet, 
While summer, in a vale of flowers, 

Is sleeping rosy at his feet. 

To one, who lookM from upper air 
0*er all th' enchanted regions there, 
How beauteous must have been the glow, 
The life, the sparkling from below ! 
Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks 
Of golden melons on their banks. 
More golden where the sua light falls ; — 
Gay lizards glittering on the walls* 
Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright 
As they were all alive with light, — 
And yet more splendid, numerous flocks 
Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, 
With their rich restless wings, that gleam 
Variously in the crimson beam 
Of the warm West, — as if inlaid 
With brilliants from the mine, or made 
Of tearless rainbows, such as span 
Th' unclouded skies of Peristan ! ' 
And then, the mingling sounds that come, 
Of shepherd*s ancient reed,t with hum 
Of the wild bees of Palestine, 
Banquetting through the flowery vales; 

* " Thb number of lizards I saw one day in the 
great court of the temple of the sun at Balbec, 
amounted to many thousands ; the ground, the waUs, 
and stones of the ruined buildings were covered with 
them, Bruce. 

t The syrinx or Pan's pipe is still a pastoral instru- 
ment in Syria. RusseL 



LLALLA ROOKH. 13J» 

And, Jordan, those sweet banks of thine, 
And woods, so full of nightingales ! 

But nought can charm the luckless Peri ; 
Her soul is sad — her wings are weary — 
Joyless she sees the sun look down 
On that great temple, once his own,* 
Whose lonely columns stand sublime, 

Flinging their shadows from on high, 
Like dials, which the wizard, time, 

Had raisM to count his ages by ! 

Yet haply there may lie conceal'd 

Beneath those chambers of the sun,' 
Some amulet of gems anneaPd 
In upper fires, some tablet seal'd 

With the great name of Solomon, 

Which, spellM by her illumined eyes, 
May teach her where, beneath the moon, 
In earth or ocean lies the boon, 
The charm that can restore so soon, 

An erring spirit to the skies! 

Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ; — 
. Still laughs the radient eye of Heaven, 

Nor have the golden bowers of even 
In the rich west begun to wither ; — 
When o'er the vale of Balbec winging, 

Slowly, she sees a child at play. 
Among the rosy wild-flowers singing. 

As rosy and as wild as they ; 
Chasing with eager hands and eyes, 

* The temple of the sun at Balbec > 



^'W- 



132 LLALLA ROOKH. 

The beautiful blue damsel flies,* 
That flutter'd round the josmine sterns^ 
Like winged flowers or flying gems ; 
And, near the boy, who tirM with play 
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay, 
She saw a wearied man dismount 

From his hot steed, and on the brink 
Of a small imaret's rustic fount 

Impatient fling him down to drink. 
Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd 

To the fair child, who fearless sat, 
Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd 

Upon a brow more flerce than that,— 
Sullenly fierce — a mixture dire. 
Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire ! 
In which the Peri's eye could read 
Dark tales of many a ruthless deed ; 
The ruinM maid — ^the shrine profan'd — 
Oaths broken — and the threshold stain'd 
With blood of guests ! — there written, alf. 
Black as the damning drops that fall 
From the denouncing Angel's pen. 
Ere mercy weeps them out again I 

Yet tranquil now that man of crime 
(As if the balmy evening time 
Soften'd his spirit,) look'd and lay, 
Watching the rosy infant's play : — 
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance 

*"You behold there a considerable number of re* 
inarkable species of beautiful insects, the elegance of 
whose appearance and their attire procured for thera 
the name of Damsels . ' ' Sonnini, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 133 

Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance 

Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, 
As torches, that have burnt all night 
Through some impure and godless rite 

Encounter morning's glorious rays. 

But hark ! the vesper call to prayer, 

As slow the orb of day-light sets, 
Is vising sweedy on the air, 

From Syria's thousand minarets ! 
The boy has started from the bed 
Of flowers where he had laid his head, 
And down upon a fragrant sod 

Kneels with his forehead to the Souths 
Lisping the- eternal name of God 

From purity's own cherub mouth, 
And looking, while his hands and eyes 
Are lifted to the glowing skies, 
Like a stray babe of Paradise, 
Just lightpd on that flnwpry plain, 
And seeking for its home again ! 
Oh 'twas a sight — ^that heav'n— -that child — 
A scene, which might have well begui I'd 
Ev'n haughty Eblis of a sigh 
For glories lost and peace gone by ! 

And how felt he, the wretched man, *" 
Reclining there — while memory ran 
O'er many a year of guilt and strife, 
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, 
Nor found one sunny resting-place, 
Nor brought him back one branch of grace ! 
, ♦' There was a time," he said in mild, 
Heart-humbled tones—** thou blessed child 1 



134 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" When young and haply pure as thou, 
** I look'd and pray*d like thee — ^but now—' 
He hung his head — each nobler aim 

And hope and feeling, which had slept 
From boyhood's hour, that instant came 

Fresh o'er him, and he wept ! he wept ! 

Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! 

In whose benign, redeeming flow 
Is felt the first, the only sense 

Of guiltless joy that guilt can know. 



1 



" There's a drop," said the Peri, *' that down from 

"the moon 
" Falls through the withering airs of June 
" Upon Egypt's land,* of so healing a power, 
",So balmy a virtue, that ev'n in the hour 
" That drop descends, contagion dies, 
'* And health reanimates earth and skies I — 
" Oh, is it not thus^ thou '»■" f^^ s^n, 

" The precious tears of repentance fell ? 
" Though foul thy very plagues within, 

*'One heavenly drop hath dispell'd them all." 

And now — behold him kneeling there 
By the child's side, in humble prayer, 
While the same sun-beam shines upon 
The guilty and the guiltless one, 
And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven 
The triumph of a soul forgiven ! 

* The Nucta, or Miraculous Drop, which falls in 
Egypt precisely on Saint John's day, in June, and is 
supposed to have the effect of stopping th« plague. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 13 j 

' xwas when the golden orb had set, 
While on their knees they lingered yet, 
There fell a light more lovely far 
Than ever came from sun or star, 
Upon the tear, that warm and meek, 
DewM that repentant sinner's cheek : 
To mortal eye this light might seem 
A northern flash, a meteor beam — 
' But well the enraptur'd Peri knew 
;,Twas a bright smile the angel threw 
From heaven's gate, to hail that tear 
Her harbinger of glory near ! 

" Joy, joy for ever ! my task is done — 
'* The gates are passM, and heaven is won! 
»' Oh ! am I not happy ? I am, I am — 
** To thee, sweet Eden ! how dark aud sad 

* Are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam,* 

" And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad ! 

* Farewell, ye odours of earth, that die, 

* Passing away like a lover's sigh ; — 
*My feast is now of the Tooba tree,t 

* Whose scent is the breath of Eternity! 

Farewell ye vanishing flowers, that shone 
" In my fairy wreath, so bright and brief, — 

* Oh! what are the brightest that e'er have blown, 

* The Country of Delight — the name of a province 
1 the kingdom of Jinnistan, or Fairy Land, the capi- 
il of which is called the city of Jewels. Amberabad 
! another of the cities of Jinnistan. 

t The tree Tooba that stands in Paradise, in the 
alace of Mahomet. Sales Prelinu Disc, Touba, 
lys D^Herbelotf signifies beatitude, or eternal hap- 
iness. 



136 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" To the lot-tree, springing by Axla's throne,* 

" Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf! 
" Joy, joy forever I — my task is done — 
" The Gates are pass'd and Heav'n is won !" 

* Mahomet is described, in the 53d chapter of th^ 
Koran as having seen the angel Gabriel, *' by the lot 
tree, beyond which there is no passing; near it is thijli 
Garden of Eternal Abode." This tree say the com-" 
mentators, stands in the seventh Heaven on the rigli 
hand of the throne of God. 



r y- 



0/'iw: 



LI.AI.LA ROOKH. ' 137 

'''^ And this," said the great Chamberlain, " is 
90etry ! this flimsy manufacture of the brain, which 
a comparison with the lofty and durable monu-' 
.nents of genius, is as the gold filigree-work of Za- 
nara beside the eternal architecture of Egypt. 
Ifterthis gorgeous sentence, which, with a few 
nore of the same kind, Fadladeen kept by him for 
•are and important occasions, he proceeded to the 
matomy of the short poem just recited. The lax 
md easy kind of metre in which it was written 
»ught to be denounced, he said, as one of the lead- 
ng causes of the alarming growth of poetry in our 
imes. If some check were not given to the lawless 
acility, we should soon be overrun by a race of 
tards as numerous and as shallow as the hundred 
ind twenty thousand streams of Basra.* They who 
ucceeded in this style deserved chastisement for 
heir very success; — as warriors have been punish- 
d, even after gaining a victory, because they had 
aken the liberty of gaining it in an irregular or un- 
stablished manner. What, then, was to be said to 
hose who failed ? to those who presumed, as in the 
resent lamentable instance to imitate the license 
nd ease of the bolder sons of song, without any of 
hat gracH or vigour which gave a dignity even to 
egligence; — who, like them, flung the jereedt 
arelessly, but not, like them, to the mark ; — ** and 
/ho," said he, ruising his voice to excite a proper 
egree of wakefulness in his hearers, '* contrive to 
ppear heavy and constrained in the midst of all 
le latitude they have allowed themselves, like one 
f those young pagans that dance before the Prin- 
ess, who has the ingenuity to move as if her limbs 
^ere fettered in a pair of the lightest and loosest 
rawers of Masulipatam !" 

* " It is said that the rivers or streams of Basra 
'ere reckoned in the time of Belal ben Abi Bordeh, 
nd amounted to the number of one hundred and twen- 
r thousand streams." — Ebn HaukaL 

t The name of the javelin with which the Easterns 
cercise, v. Castellan, Maurs des Othomans, torn 
i. D. 161. 



138 LLALLA ROOKH. 

It was but little suitable, he continued, to thf 
grave march of criticism to follow this fantasttci 
Peri, of whom they had just heard, through all he; 
flights and adventures between earth and heaven 
but he could not help adverting to the puerile con 
ceitedness of the Three Gifts which she issupposec 
to carry to the skies, — a drop of blood, forsooth, t 
sigh and a tear ! How the first af these article 
was delivered into the angel's " radiant hand," ht 
professed himself at a loss to discover ; and as tc 
the safe carriage of the sigh and the tear, such ^ 
Peris and such poets were beings by far too incom- 
prehensible for him even to guess how they manag- 
ed such matters. " But, in short," said he, ** it is. 
a waste of time and patience to dwell longer up- 
on a thing so incurably frivolous, — puny even ^ 
among its own puny race, and such as only the 
Banyan Hospital for Sick Insects* should under- 
take." 

In vain did Llalla Rookh try to soften this in- 
exorable critic ; in vain did she resort to her most 
eloquent common-places, — reminding him that 
poets were a timid and sensitive race, whose 
sweetness was not to be drawn forth, like that ot 
the fragrant grass near the Ganges, by crushing and 
trampling upon them ; — that severity often destroy- 
ed everjy chance of the perfection which it demand- 
ed ; and that, after all, perfection was like the 
Mountain of the Talisman, — no one had ever yet 
reached its summit.t Neither these gentle axioms, 
nov the still gentler looks with which they were in. 
cnlcated, could lower for one instant the elevation 
«)f Fadladeen's eyebrows, or charm him into any 
thing like encouragement or even toleration of her 
poet. Toleration, indeed, was not among the weak- 

* For a description of this hospital of the Banyans,, 
v.. Parson's Travels, p. 262. 

t " Near this is a curious hill, called Koh Talism, 
the Mountain of the Talisman, because, according to^ 
the traditions of the country, no persons ever succeed- 
ed in gaining its summit.'' Kinneir, 






LLALLA ROOKH. 13^ 

jiesses of Fadladeen : he carried the|same spirit 
'into matters of poetry and of religion, and though 
[little versed in the beauties or sublimities of either, 
^3iras a perfect master of the art of persecution in 
Doth. His zeal, too, was the same in either pur- 
j^3uit: whether the game before him was pagans 
>r poet-asters, — worshippei's of cows or writers of 
epics. 

They had now arrived atthe splendid city of La- 
,iiore, whose mausoleums and shrines magnificeat 
(iad numberless, where Death seemed to share equal 
'^onours with Heaven, would have powerfully affect- 
ed the heart and imagination of Llalla Rookh, if 
I eelings more of this earth had not taken entire 
Dossession of her already. She was here met by 
iiessengers despatched from Cashmere, who in- 
.'ormed her that the King had arrived in the Valley, 
md was himself superintending the sumptuous pre- 
parations that were making in the saloons of the 
Shalimar for her reception. The chill she felt on 
eceiving this intelligence, which to a bride whose 
Jieart was free and light would have brought only 
^mages of affection and pleasure, convinced her 
liat her peace was gone for ever, and that she was 
n love, irretrievabljr in love, with young Fera- 
lORZ. The veil, which this passion wears at first, 
lad fallen off, and to know that she loved was now 
■IS painful as to love without knowing it had been 
ielicious. Veramorz too,— what misery would be 
' lis, if the fiw<i«t hours of intercourse so imprudent- 
y allowed them should have stolen into his heart 
'he same fatal fascmation as into hers; if, notwith- 
' tandingr her rank, and the modest homage he al- 
vays pslid to it, even he should have yielded to the 
nfluence of those lone and happy interviews, where 
ausic, poetry, the delightful scenes of nature,— all 
ended to bring their hearts close together, and to 
laken, by every means, that too ready passion, 
vhlch often, like the young of the desert-bird, is 
varmed into life by the eyes alone !* She saw but 

* The Arabians believe that the ostriches hatch 



140 LLALLA ROOKH. 

one way to preserve herself from bein^ culpable af 
well as unhappy, and this, however painful, she was 
resolved to adopt. Feramorz must no more be 
admitted to her presence. To have strayed so fai 
into the dangerous labyrinth was wrong, but to lin- 
ger in It while the clew was yet in her hand, would 
be criminal. Though the heart she had to offer to 
the king of Bucharia might be cold and broken, it 
should at least be pure ; and she must only try to 
forget the short vision of happiness she had enjoy- 
ed, — like that Arabian shepherd, who, in wander- 
ing into the wilderness, caugbi a glimpse of the 
Gardens of Irim, and then lost them again foj 
ever!* 

The arrival of the young bride at Lahore was 
celebrated in the most enthusiastic manner. The 
Rajas and Omras in her train, who had kept at & 
certain distance during the journey, and never en 
camped nearer to the princess than was strictly ne 
cessary for her safe-guard, here rode in spleml 
cavalcade through the city, and distributed thenn 
costly presents to the crowd. Engines were erec: 
ed in all the squares, which cast forth showers o 
confectionary among the people ; while the arti 
zans, in chariots adorned with tinsel and flyin; 
streamers, exhibited the badges of their respectiv* 
trades through the streets. Such brilliant display 
of life and pageantry among the palaces, and domr 
and gilded minarets of Lahore, made tlvJ city all 
gether like a place of enchantment ;^particular! 
on the day when Llalla. Rookh set out agaii 
upon her journey, when she was accompanied ti 
the gate by all the fairest and richest of the nobility 
and rode along between ranks of beautiful boy 
and girls, who waved plates of gold and silver flow 
ers over their headst as they went, and then threv 
them to be gathered by the populace. 

their young by only looking at them. P. Vamleh^ 
Retat, d' Egijpte, 

* V. Salens Koran^ note, vol ii. p. 484. 

j Ferishta. 



|i^i-^%:^f-L 



LLALLA ROOKH, 141 

For many days after their departure from Lahore 
a considerable degree of gloom hung over the whole 
party. Llalla Rookh, who had intended to 
make illness her excuse for not admitting the young 
minstrel, as usual to the pavilion, soon found that 
to feign indisposition was unnecessary; — Fadla- 
DEEN felt the loss of the good road they had hither- 
to travelled, and was very near cursing Jehan-Guire 
j(of blessed memory 1) for not having continued big 
delectable alley of irees,* at least as far as the 
mountains of Cashmere ; — while the ladies, who 
had nothing now to do all day but to be fanned by 
peacocks' leathers, and to listen to Fadladeen, 
seemed heartily weary of the life they led, and, in 
spite of all the Great Chamberlain's criticism, were 
tasteless enough to wish for the poet again. One 
evening, as they were proceeding to their place of 
rest for the night, the princess, who, for the freer 
enjoyment of the air, had mounted her favourite 
Araoian palfrey, in passing by a small grove heard 
the notes of a lute from within its leaves, and ;: 
voice, which she but too well knew, singing the fo^ 
Tni.ving words : 

Tell me not of joys above, 
If that world can give no bliss, 

Truer, happier than the love 
Which enslaves our souls in this ! 

Tell me not of Houris' eyes ; — 
Far from me their dangerous glow, 

if those looks that light the skies 
Wound like some that burn below t 

Who that feels what love is here, 
All its falsehood— all its pain— 

'*" The fine road made by the emperor Jehan-Guirt 
i^Qm Agra to Lahore, planted with trees on eacTi side 
G 



1421 LLALLA ROOKIL 

Would, for ev'n Elysium's sphere. 
Risk the fatal dream again ? 

Who, that mrdeta desert's heat 

Sees the waters fade away, 
Would n©t rather die than meet 

Streams again as false as they ? 

The tone of melawcholy defiance in which these 
words were uttered, went to Llalla Rookh's 
Iheart, and, as she reluctantly rode on, she could not 
help feeling it as a sad but sweet certainty, that Fe- 
RAMORZ was to the full as enamoured and miserable 
as herself. 

The place where they encamped that evening 
was the first delightful spot they had come to sincr 
they left Lahore. On one side of them was a grove 
full of small Hindoo lemples, and planted with the 
most gi acelul trees of the East; where ihe tamarind, 
the cassia, and the silken plantains of Ceylon were 
mingled in rich contrast with the high fan-like fo- 
liage of the palmyra, — that favourite tree of the 
luxurious bird that lightiS up the chambers of its 
nest with fire-flies.* in the middle of the lawn 
where the pavilion stood there was a lake surround- 
ed by small mangoe trees, on tlie clear cold waters 
of which floated multitudes of the beautiful red lo- 
tus ; while at a distance stood the ruins of a strange 
and a\vfu!-looking lower, which seemed old enough 
to have been the temple of some religion no longer 
known, and which spoke the voice of desolation in 
tlie midst of all that bloom and loveliness. This 
singular ruin excited the wonder and conjecturesof 
all. Llalla Kookh guessed in vain, and the all- 
pretending Fadladeen, who had never till thi& 
journey been beyond the precincts of Delhi, was 
proceeding most learnedly to show that he knew^ 

The Baya^ or Indian Gross-beak. Sir W. 
JTonett 






LLALLA ROOKH, 143 

MOliiing- whatever about the matter, when one of the 
ladies suggested, that perhaps Feramorz could sa- 
tisfy tlieir curiosity. They were now approaching 
his native mountains, and this tower might be a re- 
lie of some of those dark superstitions, which had 
prevailed in that country before the light of Islam 
dawned upon it. The Chamberlain who usually 
preferred his own ignorance to the best knowledge 
that any one else could give him, was by no means 
pleased with this officious reference ; and the prin- 
cess, too, was about to interpose a faint word of ob- 
jection, but, before either of them couid speak, a 
slave was despatched for Feramorz, who in a very 
few minutes, appeared before them, looking so pale 
and unhappy in Llalla. Rookh's eyes, that she 
already repented of her cruelty in having so long 
excluded him. 

That venerable tower, he told them, was the re- 
mains of an ancient Fire-Temple, built by those 
Ghebers or Persians of the old religion, who, many 
hundred years since, had fled thither from their 
Arab conquerors, preferring liberty and their altars 
in a foreign land to the alternative of apostacy or 
persecution in their own. It was impossible, he 
added, not to feel interested in the many glorious 
but unsuccessful struggles, which had been made by 
these original natives of Persia to cast oiF the yoke 
of their bigotted conquerors. Like their own fire 
in the Burning Field at Bakou,* when suppressed 
in one place, they had but broken out with fresh 
flame in another ; and as a native of Cashmere, of 
that fair and holy valley, which had m the same 
manner become the prey of strangers, and seen her 
ancient shrines and native princes swept away be- 
fore the march of her intolerant invaders, he felt a 
sympathy, he owned, with the sufferings of the per- 
secuted Ghebers, which every monument like this 
before them but tended more powerfully to awa- 
ken. 

* The Agcr ardens, described by Kempfer, Am/S' 
iuM. Exot. 



144 LLALLA ROOKH. 

It was3 the first time that Feramorz had ever 
ventured upon so much prose before Fadladekn, 
'<md it may easily be conceived what effect such 
prose as this must have produced upon that most 
orthodox and most pagan-hating personage. He 
^at for some minutes aghast, ejaculating only at in- 
tervals *' Bigotted conquerors ! — sympathy with 
Fire-worshippers !'*-~while Feramorz, happy to 
'^ake advantage of this almost speechless horror of 
•he Chamberlain, proceeded to say that he knew a 
melancholy story, connected with the events of one 
of those brave struggles of the Fire -worshippers of 
Persia against their Arab masters, which, if the 
evening was not too far advanced, he should have 
much pleasure in being allowed to relate to the 
princess. It was impossible for Llalla Rookh to 
refuse : he had never before looked half so anima- 
ted, and when he spoke of the Holy Valley, his eyes 
had sparkled, she thought, like the talismanic char- 
iicters on the scimitar of Solomon. Her consent 
was therefere readily granted, and while Fadla- 
0£EN sat in unspeakable dismay, expecting treason 
^nd abomination in every line, the poet thus began 
his story of the Fire-worshippers :r~ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 115 



fis moonlight over Oman^s sea ;^-- 

Her banks of pearl and palmy isles 
Bask in the night beam beauteously, 

And her blue waters sleep in smiles^ 
'Tis moonlight in Harmozia'st walls, 
And through her Emir's porphyry halls, 
Where, some hours since, was heard the swell 
Of trumpet and the clash of zel,; 
Bidding the bright-eyed sun farewell ; — 
The peaceful sun, whom better suits 

The music of the bulbuPs nest, 
Or the light touch of lovers' lutes, 

To sing him to his golden rest! 
All hush'd — ^there's not a breeze in motion ; 
The shore is silent as the ocean. 
If zephyrs come, so light they come. 

Nor leaf is stirr'd nor wave is driven ; — 
The wind-tower on the Emir's dome § 

Can hardly win a.breath from heaven, 
Ev'n he, that tyrant Arab, sleeps 
Calm, while a nation round him weeps , 
While curses load the air he breathes, 
And falchions from unnumber'd sheathes 
Are starting to avenge the shame 

* The Persian , Gulf, sometimes so called, whicli 
separates the shores of Persia and Arabia. 

t The present Gombaroon, a town on the Persian 
side of the gulf. 

t A Moorish instrument of music. 

§ ** At Gombaroon and other places in Persia, they 
have towers for the purpose of catching the wind, and 
cJOoUng the houses. ' ' Le Bryan, 



146 LLALLA RCMDKH. 

His race hath brought on Iran's* name. 
Hard, heartless chief, unmov'd alike 
Mid eyes that weep and swords tliat strike;—- 
One of that saintly, murderous brood, 

To carnage and the Koran given, 
Who think through unbelievers' blood 

Lies their directest patli to heave^n. 
One, who will pause and kneel unshod 

In the warm blood his hand hath pour'd, 
To mutter o'er some fext of God 

Engraven on his reeking sword ;t— • 
Nay, who can coolly note the line, 
The letter of those words divine, 
To which his blade, with searching art, 
Had sunk into its victim's liearti 

Just Alia ! what must be thy look, 

When such a wretch before thee stands 
Unblushing, with thy sacred book. 

Turning the leaves with blood-stain'd hand:>, 
And wresting from its page sublime 
His creed of lust and hate and crime ? 
Ev'n as those bees of Trebizond,— 

Which from the sunniest flowers that glad 
With their pure smile the gardens round. 

Draw venom forth that drives men mad ! X 



* '* Iran is the true general name of the empire of 
Persia." Asiai. Res. Disc. 5. 

t '* On the blades of then* scimitars some veree from 
the Koran is usually intscribed.'' RusseL *" . 

I ** There is a kind of Rhododendros about Trebi- 
zond, whose flowers the bee teeds upon, and the honey 
thence drives people mad.'* Toumefort, 



LLALLA ROOKH. U7 

'Aever did fierce Arabia send 

A satrap forth more direiy great; 
^Xever was Iran doom'd lo bend 

Beneath a yoke of deadlier weight. 
Her throne half fail'n — her pride was crnsh'd-— 
Her sons were willing slaves, nor blush'd, 
In their own land — no more their own, — 
To crouch beneath a stranger's throne. 
Her towers, where Mithra once hadburn'd, 
To Moslem shrines — oh shame ! were turn'd^ 
Where slaves, convened by rhe sword, 
Their mean, apostate worship pour'd, 
And curs'il the faith their sires ador'd* 
Yet has she hearts, 'mid all this 11, 
O'pT all this wreck high buoyant still 
With hope and vengeance : — hearts that yet, 

Like gems, in darkness ic^suins: rays 
They've treasur'd irom the sun that's set,—- 

Beam all the light of long-lost days! 
And swords she hath, nor weak nor slow 

To second all such hearts can dare; 
:\s he shall know, well, dearly know, 

Who sleeps in moonlight luxury there, 
Tranquil as if his spirit lay 
BecalmM in heaven's approving ray ! 
Sleep on — for purer eyes than thine 
Those waves are hush'd, those planets shine. 
Sleep on, and be thy rest unmov'd 

By the white moonbeam's dazzling power ; 
\one but the loving and the lov'd 

Should be awake at this sweet hour. 
And see— where, high above above those rockf 

That o'er the deep their shadows fling, 



m LLALLA ROOKH ^ 

Hon turret stands ; where ebon locks^ J 

As glossy as a heron's wing J 

Upon the turban of a king, * 1 

Hang from the lattice, long and wild, — | 

'Tis she, that Emir's blooming child, 
All truth and tenderness and grace. 
Though born of such ungentle race; 
An image of Youth's radiant Fountain 
Springing in a desolate mountain ! t 
Oh what a pure and sacred thing 

Is beauty, curtain'd from the sight 
Of the gross world, illumining 

One only mansion with her light! 
Unseen by man's disturbing eye, — 

The flower, that blooms beneath the seu 
Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie 

Hid in more chaste obscurit}' ! 
So H NDA, have thy face and mind, 
Like holy mysteries, lain enshrin'd. 
And oh what transport for a (over 

To lift the veil ihat shades them o'er! — 
Like those who, ail at once discover 

In the lone deep some fairy shore. 

Where mortal never trod before, 
And sleep and wake in scented aiis 
No lip had ever brealh'd bur theirs! 
Beautiful are the maids that glide 

* *' Their kings wear plumes of black herons' fea- 
thers upon the right side, as a badge of soverei^nty^i*' 

Hanwatf, 

t '*The Fountain of Youth, by a Mahometan tra- 
dition, is situated in some dark region of the East. 

Richardson^ 



^fw:" ■ ' ' • • ■ • ^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 149 

On summer eves, through Yemen's* dales ; 
And bright the glancing looks they hide 

Behind their litters' roseate veils; — 
And brides, as delicate and fair 
As the white jasmin'd flowers they wear. 
Hath Yemen in her blissful clime, 

Who luH'd in cool kiosk or bower, 
Before their mirrors count the time, 

And grow still lovelier every hour. 
But never yet hath bride or maid 

In Araby's gay Harams smil'd, 
Whose boasted brightness would not fade 

Before Al Hassan's blooming child. 

Light as the angel shapes that bless 
An infant's dream, yet not the less 
Rich in all woman's loveliness; — 
With eyes so pure, that from their ray 
Dark Vice would turn abash'd away, 
Blinded like serpents when they gaze 
Upon the emerald's virgin blaze !t — 
Yet, fill'd with all youth's sweet desires', 
Mingle the meek and vestal fires 
Of other worlds with all the bliss. 
The fond, weak tenderness of this! 
A soul, too, more than half divine, 

Wkere, through some shades of earthly feeling, 
Religion's soften'd glories shine, 

* Arabia Felix. 

t " They say that if a snake or serpent fix his eye^ 
^^on the lustre of those stones [emeralds,] he immedi-* 
ately becomes blind. Ahmed bm abdalazijz, Trdhf 
tise On Jewels. 



h\) LLALLA ROOKH. 

Like light through summer foliage stealinff. 
Shedding a glow of such mild hue, 
So warm and yet 60 shadowy too, 
As makes the very darkness there 
More beautiful than light elsewhere ! 
Such is the maid who, at this hour, 
Hath risen from her restless sleep, 
And sits alone in that high bower, 

Watching the still and shining deep. 
Ah! 'twas not thus, — with tearful eyes 
And beating heart — she us'd to gaze 
On the magnificent earth and skies, 
In her own land, in happier days. 
Why looks she now so anxious down 
Among those rocks, whose rugged frown 

Blackens the mirror of the deep? 
Whom waits she all this lonely night ? 

Too rough the rocks, too bold the steep, 
For man to scale that turret's height! — 

So deem'd at least her thoughtful sire, 

When high, to catch the cool night air. 
After the day-beam's withering fire,* 

He built her bower of freshness there, 
And had it dcck'd with cosdiest skill. 

And foudly thought it safe as fair : — 
Think, reverend dreamer ! think so still, 

r^or wake to learn what Love can dare — 
Love, all-defying Love, who sees 
No charms in trophies won with ease ; — 
Whose rarest, dearest fruiis of bliss 

*' At Gombaroon and the Isle ofOmrius it is some- 
times so hot that the people aure obliged to lie all dpA 
io the water. — Marco Polo. 



LLALLA ROOKIL 151 

Arc pluck'd on danger's precij»ice ? 
jfeolder than they, who dare not dive 

For pearls, but when the sea's at rest. 
Love, in the tempest most alive, 

Hath ever held that pearl the bost 
He finds beneath the stormiest water! 
Yes — Araby's unrivall'd daughter, 
Though high that tower, that rock-way rude. 

There's one who, but to kiss thy cheek, 
Would climb th' untrodden solitude 

Of Ararat's tremendous penk,* 
And think its sleeps, tiiough dark and dread, 
Heav'n's patiiways, if to thee they led ! 
Ev'n now thou seest the flashing spray, 
That lights his oar's impatient way : — 
Ev'n now tliou hear'st the sudden shock 
Of his swift bark against the rock, 
And stretches down thy arms of snow, 
As if to lih him from below! 
Like her to whom, ai dead of nis;ht, 
The bridegroom, with his locks of light,t 
Came, in the flush of love and pride.; 
And scal'd the terrace of his bride ; — 
When, as >\\e saw him rashly spring, 
And mid-way up in danger cling 
She flung him down her long blick hair, 
Exclaimin*; breathless, " There, love, there !" 

* This mountain is generally supposed to be inac- 
cessible. 

t In one of the books of the Shah Nameh, when Zal 
[a celebrated hero ot Persia, remarkable for his white 
hair] comes to the terrace of his mistress Rodahver at 
night, she lets down her long tresses to assist him in 
his ascent ; — he, however, manages it in a less roman- 
tic way by fixing his crook in a projecting beam'. — v. 
Champion's Ferdosi, 



152 



LLALLA ROOKH. 



And scarce did manlier nerve uphold 

The hero Zal in that fond hour, 
Thau wings the youth who fleet and bold 

Now climbs the rock, to Hinda's bower. 
See — hghtas up their granite steeps 

The rock-goats of Arabia clamber,* 
Fearless from crag to crag he leaps, 

And now is in the maiden's chamber. 

She loves — but knows not whom she loves, 

Nor what his race, nor whence he came ; — 
Like one who meets, in Indian groves, 

Some beauteous bird, without a name, 
Brought by the last ambrosial breeze, 
From isles in the unuiscovered seas, 
To show his plumag^e for a day 
To wondering eyes, and wing away ! 
Will/ie thus fly — her nameless lover? 

Alia forbid! 'twas by a moon 
As fair as this, while singing over 

Some ditty to her soft kanoon,t 
Alone at this same watchinu hour, 

She first beheld his radiant eyes 
Gleam through the lattice of the bower, 

Where nightly now they mix their sighs ; 
And thought some spirit of the air 
(For what could waft a mortal there ?) 
Was pausing on his moonlight way, 

:1c On the lofty hills of Arabia Petraea are rock- 
goats. Niebukr, 

t " Canun, espece de psalteron, avec des cordes 
de boyaux ; les dames en touchent dans le serrail, 
avec des decailles, armees de pointes de coco." To^ 
dvrinni, translated by De Cowman* 



LLALLA ROOKH. 153 

To listen to her lonely lay ! 

This fancy ne'er liath left her mind : 

And though, when terror's swoon was past, 
She saw a youth, of mortal kind, 

Before her in obeisance cast, — 
Yet often since, when he hath spoken 
Strange, awful words, — and gleams have broken 
From his dark eyes, too bright to bear, 

Oh ! she hath feared her soul was given 
To some unhallow'd child of air, 

8ome erring spirit, cast from heaven, 
Like those angelic youths of old, 
Who burn'd for maids of mortal mould, 
Bewilder'd left the glorious skies. 
And lost their heaven for woman's eyes ! 

Fond girl ! nor fiend, nor angel he. 
Who woos thy young simplicity ; 
But one of earth's impassion'd sons. 

As warm in love, as fierce in ire 
As the best heart whose current runs 

Full of the Day-God's living fire ! 

But quench'd to-night that ardour seems, 

And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow 
Never before, but in her dreams, 

Had she beheld him pale as now : 
And those were dreams of troubled sleep, 
From which 'twas joy to wake and weep ; 
Visions that will not be forgot. 

But sadden every waking scene. 
Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot 

All wither'd where they once had been • 



15.4 LLALLA ROOKH. 

"How sweetly," said the trembling niai* 

Of her own gentle voice afraid, 

So long had they in silence stood, 

Looking upon tliat tranquil flood — 

" How sweetly does the moonbeam smile 

" To-night upon yon leafy isle ! 

" Oft, in my fancy's wanderings, 

*' I've wish'd that iiitle isle had wings, 

** And we, within its fairy boweis, 

" Were wafted off to seas unknown, 
"Where not a pulse should beat but our?> 

"And we mighi live, love, die alone! 
" Far from the cruel and the cold,— 

" Where the brijjht eyes of angels only 
" Should come aroujjd us, to behold 

" A paradise so pure and lonely! 
"Would this be world enou^ji for thee V 
Playful sheturn'd, tiiathe might see 

The passmg smile her cheek put on * 
But when she mark d how mournfully 

His eyes met hers, tliat smile was gone ; 
And bursting into heart-felt tears, 
"Yes, yes," she cried, " my hourly fears, 
**My dreams have boded all too right — 
"We part — for ever part to-night I 
"1 knew, I knew it could not last — 
" 'Twas bright, 'twas hea\enly, but *tis past ' 
** Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, 

" I've seen my loudest hopes decay; 
" I never lov'd a tree or flower, 

" Rut 'twas the first to fade away ; 
" I never nurs'd a dear |jazelle, 
"To glad me with its soft black eye 



■K^^ 



^m 



LLALLA ROOKFL 



Bat when it came to know me well 
'And love me, it was sure to die ! 
Now too — the joy most like divine 
••Of all I ever dreamt or knew, 
To see tliee, hear thee, call thee mine, — 
'- Oh misery ! must I lose that too ? 
Yet go— on peril's brink we meet ;— 
''Those frightful rocks — that treacherous sea— 
' ^"^0, never come again — tliough sweet, 
" Though heaven, it may be death to thee. 
Farewell — and blessings on thy way, 
^' VV^here'er thou go'st, beloved stranger ! 
"' Better to sit and watch that ray, 
'* And think thee safe, though far away, 
" Than have thee near rae, and in daoger!" 

^' Danger I — oh, tempt me not to boast — " 
The youth exclaim' d — "thou little know'st 
*' What he can brave, who, born and nurst 
^' In <langer's paths, hasdar'd her worst ! 
'• Upon whose ear the signal-word 

■ Of strife and death is hourly breaking ; 
Who sleeps with head upon the sword 
" Hisfevcr'd hand must grasp in waking ! 

* Say on — thou fear'st not then. 
"And we may meet — oft meet again ?" 

'^ Ml ! look not so — beneath the skies 

! now fear yiothing but those eyes : 

t( aught from earth could charm or force 

^7v snirlf frnm iis destin'd course. 



156 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" If aught could make this soul forget 

" The bond to which the seal is set, 

'* 'Twould be those eyes ; — they, only they 

*' Gould melt that sacred seal away ! 

•' But no — 'tis fix'd — my awful doom 

" Is fixM — on this side of the tomb 

" We meet no more — why, why did heaven 

"Mingle two souls that earth has riven, 

*' Has rent asunder wide as ours ? 

"Oh ! Arab maid ! as soon the powers 

'* Of light and darkness may combine, 

" As I be link'd with thee or thine ! 

** Thy father—" 

*' Holy Alia save 
" His gray head from that lightning glance i 
'^ Thou know'st him not — lie loves the brave ; 

" Nor lives there under heaven's expanse, 
" One who would prize, would worship thee 
*' And thy bold spirit, more than he. 
1'' Oft wh2nin childhood, I have play'd 
" With the bright falchion by his side, 
. 'I've heard him swear his lisping maid 
^ *' In time should be a warrior's bride. 
"And still, whene'er, at haram hours, 
*' I take him cool sherbets and flowers^ 
** He tells me, when in playful mood, 

" A hero shall my bridegroom be, 
' Since maids are best in battle woo'd, 

'• And won with shouts of victory ! 
'* Nay, turn not from me — thou alone 
" Art form'd to make both hearts thy own. 
<*' Go— join his sacred ranks— thou know'st 
" Th' unholy strife these Persians wage : 



LLALLA ROOKH. 157 

'* Good heav'n, that frown ! — ev'n now thou glow*st 

" With more than mortal warrior*s rage. 

" Haste to the camp by morning's h'ght, 

"And, when that sword is rais'd in fight, 

" Oh still remember love and I 

" Beneath its shadow trembling lie ! 

"One victory o'er those slaves of Fire, 

" Those impious Ghebers, whom my sire 

*' Abhors " 

" Hold, hold — thy words are death" — 

The stranger cried, as wild he flung 
His mantle back, ami show'd beneath 

The Gheber belt that round him clung. — * 
"Here, maiden, look — weep — blush to see 
^ " All that thy sire abhors, in me ! 
- " Ye? — I am of that impious race, 

** Those slaves of Fire, who morn and even^ 
" Hail their Creator's dwelling-place 

*• Among the living lights of heaven !t 
"Yes — I am of that outcast few, 
"To Iran and to vengeance true, 
'* Who curse the hour your Arabs came 
" To desolate our shrines of flame, 
" And swear before God's burning eye, 
" To break ©ur country's chains or die ! 

* They [the Ghebers] lay so much stress on tlie 
cushee or girdle, as not to dare to be an instant without 
it." Grose'« Voyage. Lejeunehomme niad'abord 
la chose ; m-iis, ayant ete depouille de sa robe, et la 
large ceinture qu'i portait comme Ghebr, &c. &c. /y 
Herbeloty art. Agduani. 

t They suppose the throne of the Almighty is seat- 
ed in the sun, and hence their worship of that lumina'^ 
ry. Hanway, 



158 LLALLA ROOKH. 



1 



" Thy bigot sire — nay, tremble not — 

" He who gave birth to ihose dear eyes, 
" With me is sacred as the spot 

" From which our fires of worship rise I 
** But know — 'twas he 1 sought that night, 

*• When, from my watch-boat on the sea, 
** I caught this turret's glimmering hght, 

" And up the rude rocks desperately 
" Rush'd to my prey — thou know'st the rest— 
**I climb'd the gory vulture's nest, 
** And found a trembling dove within ; — 
"Thine, thine the victory— thine the sin— 
^* If Love hath made one thought his own, 
" That vengeance claims first— last — alone i 
"Oh! had we never, never met, 
*' Or could this heart e'en now forget 
" How link'd, how bif.ss'd we might have been. 
" Had'st thou been born a Persian maid, 

*' In neighbouring valleys had we dwelt, 
"Through the same fields in childhood play'd, 

*' Atthe same kindling altar knelt, 
" Then, then, while all those nameless ties, 
" In which the charm of Country lies, 
" Had round our hearts been hourly spun, 
" Till Iran's cause and thine were one ;— 
" While in thy lute's awakening sigh 
"I heard the voice of days gone by, 
" And saw in every smile of thine 
"Returning hours of glory shine! — 
" While the wrong'd Spirit of our land 

" Liv'd, look'd, and spoke her wrongs through 
" thee,— 
'^ God! who could then this sword withstand? 



!lP 



LLALLA ROOKH, 169 



" Its very flash were victory ! 
** But now — estrang'd, divorc'dfor ever, 
"Far as the grasp of fate can sever; 
"Our only ties what love has wove,-r 

" Faith, friends, and country sunder'd wide;-^ 
"And then, then only, true to love, 

" When false to all that's dear beside ! 
"Thy father Iran's deadliest foe — 
" Thyself, perhaps, ev'n now — but no — 
" Hate never look'd so lovely yet ! 

" No— sacred to thy soul will be 
" The land of him who could forget 

" All but that bleeding laud for thee ! 
'* When other eyes shall see, unmov'd, 

" Her widows mourn, her warriors fall, 
" ThouMt think how well one Gheberiov'd, 

" And for his sake thou'lt weep for all ! 
'' But look—" 

With sudden start he lurn'd 

And pointed to the distant wave, 
Where lights, like charnel meteors, burnM 

Bluely, as o'er some seaman's grave ; 
And fiery darts, at intervals,* 

Flew up all sparkling from the main, 
As if each star that nightly falls, 

Were shooting back to heaven again. 

" My signal lights ! — I must away — 
" Both, both are ruin'd, if I stay. 

* " The Mameluks that were in the other boat, 
when it was dark, used to shoot up a sort of fiery ar- 
fows into the air, which in some measure resembled 
lightning or falling stars." Bawn* garten. 



160 LLALLA ROOKH. 

" Farewell, sweet life ! thou cling' st in vain — 

" Now, Vengeance ! — I am thine affain." 

Fiercely he broke away, norstoppM, 

Nor lookM — but from the lattice dropp'd 

Down mid the pointed crags beneath, 

As if he fled from love to death. 

While pale and mute young Hinda stood, 

Nor mov'd till in the silent flood 

A momentary plunge below 

Startled her from her trance of woe , — 

Shrieking she to the lattice flew, 

" I come — I come — if in that tide 
" Thou sleep'st to-night — I'll sleep there too, 

'* In death's cold wedlock by thy side. 
" Oh ! I would ask no happier bed 

" Than the chill wave my love lies under;— 
" Sweeter to rest together dead, 

" Far sweeter, than to live asunder !" 
But no— their hour is not yet come — 

Again she sees his pinnace fly, 
Wafting him fleetly to his home, 

Where'er that ill-starr'd home may lie ; 
And calm and smooth it seem'd to win 

Its moonlight way befort the wind, 
As if it bore all peace within. 

Nor left one breaking heart behind. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 161 



1 HE princess, whose heart was sad enough alrea- 
iy, could have wished that Feramorz had chosen 

I less melancholy story; as it is only to the happy 
hat tears are a luxury. Her ladies, however, 
,vere by no means sorry thai love was once more the 
joet's theme; for, when he spoke of love, they said 
lis voice was as iweet as it he had chewed the 
eaves of that enchanted tree, which grows over tlie 
OBib of the musician, Tan-Sein. 

Their road all the morning had lain through a 
rery dreary country ;-— through valleys, covered 
Wtli a low bushy jingle, where, in more than one 
[lace, the awful signal of the bamboo staff, with 
he white flag at its top, reminded the traveller that 
n that very spot the tiger had made some human 
Ireature his victim. It was therefore with much 
deasure that they arrived at sunset in a safe and 
avely glen, and encamped under one of those holy 
rees, whose smooth columns and spreading roofs 
(eem to destine them for natural temples of religion. 
Reneath the shade, some pious hands had erected 
Hilars ornamented with the most beautiful porce- 
kin, which now supplied the use of mirrors to the 
^oung maidens, as they adjusted their hair in de- 
uending from the palankeens. Here while as 
isual, the princess sat listening anxiously, with Fad- 
:,ADEEN in one of his loftiest moods of criticism bv 
\6r side, the young poet, leaning against a brancn 

II t>ie tref', thus continued his story : 



m LLALLA ROOKH. 



The morn hath risen clear and calm, 

And o'er the Green Sea* palely shines^ 
Revealing Bahrein's groves of palm, 

And lighting KiSHMA'sf amber vinqsj. 
Fresh smell the shores of Araby, 
While breezes from the Indian sea 
Blow round Selama's^ sainted cape, 

And curl the shining flood beneath, — 
Whose waves are rich with many a grape, 

And cocoa-nut and flowery wreath, 
Which pious seamen as they pass'd. 
Had tow'rd that holy head-land cast- 
Oblations (o the Genii there 
For gentle skies and breezes fair ! 
The nightingale now bends her flight 
From the high trees, where all the night 

She sung so sweet, with none to listen; 
And hides her from the morning star 

Where thickets of pomegranate glisten 
In the clear dawn, — bespangled o'er 

With dew, whose night-drops would not stain 
The best and brightest scimitar § 

* The Persian Gulf.—-*' To dive for pearls in th< 
Green Sea, or Persian Gulf." Sir fV, Jones. 

t Islands in the Gulf. 

t Or Selemeh, the genuine name of the headland a< 
tlie entrance of the Gulf, commonly called Cape Mus^l ' 
seldom " The Indians, when they pass the promonn 
tory, throw cocoa-nuts, fruits, or flowers into the sea^i 
to secure a propitious voyage. Morie)\ 

§ In speaking of the cRmate of Shiraz, Frankli 
says, "the dew is of such a pure nature, that, if th 
brightest scimitar should be exposed to it all niglv 
it would not receive the least rust." 



LLALL/V ROOKH. 1<^: 

i'liat ever youthful Sultan wore 
On the first morning of his reign ! 

And see — the sun himself! — on wings 
Of glory up the East he springs. 
Angel of light ! who from the time 
Those heavens began their march sublime. 
Hath first of all the starry choir 
Trod in his Maker's steps of fire! 

Where are the days, thou wondrous sphere, 
When Iran, like a sun-flower, turn'd 
To meet that eye where'er it burn'd? — 

When, from the banks of Bendemeer 
To the nut-groves of Samarcand, 
Thy temples flam'd o'er all the land? 
Where are they ? ask the shades of them 

Who, on Cadesia's"^ bloody plains, 
Sav/ fierce invaders pluck the gem 
From Iran's broken diadem, 

And bind her ancient faith in chains :— 
Ask the poor exile, cast alone 
On foreign shores, unlov'd, unknown, 
Beyond the Caspian's Iron Gates,t 

Or on the snowy Mossian mountains, 
){Par from his beauteous land of dates, 

Her jasmine bowers and sunny fountains ■ 
yet happier so than if he trod 
:His own belov'd but blighted sod, 

^ * The place where the Persians were finally defeat* 
^ jd by the Arabs i and their ancient monarchy destroyed. 

t Derbend. '* Les Tures appellent cette ville Demir 
jCapijPorte de Fcr; ce sont lesCaspiae Portae de^ 
inciens." D* Herbelot, 




164 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Beneath a despot stranger's nod! — 
Oh 1 he would rather houseless roam 

Where Freedom and his God may lead^ 
Than be the sleekest slave at home 

That crouches to the conqueror's creed! 
Is Iran's pride then gone for ever, 

Quench'd with the flame in Mithra's caves ?-^ 
No — she has sons that never — never— 

Will stoop to be the Moslem's slaves, 

While heav'n has light or earth has gravcF. 
Spirits of fire, that brood not long, 
But flash resentment back for wrong; 
And hearts where, slow but deep, the seeds 
Of vengeance ripen into deeds, 
Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
They burst like Zbilan's giant palm,"^ 
Whose buds fly open with a sound 
That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 

Yes, Emir ! lis, who scal'd that tower, 

And, had he reach'd thy slumbering breasl, 
Had taught thee in a Gheber's power 

How safe ev'n tyrant heads may rest — 
Is one of many, brave as he, 
Who loathe thy haughty race and thee ; 
Who, though they know the strife is vain^ 
Who, though they know the riven chain 

* The Talpot or Talipot tree. " This beautiful palm- 
ti'ce which grows in the heart of the forests, may be 
classed among the loftiest trees,and becomes still high* 
er when on the point of bursting from its leafy summit* 
The sheath which then envelopes the flower is veiy 
large, and, when it bursts, makes an explosion lifce the 
report of a cannon, ' ' Tkmberg. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 165 

Snaps but to enter in the heart 

Of him who rends its links apart, 

Yet dare the issue,— blest to be 

E'en for one bleeding moment free, 

And die in pangs of liberty ! 

Thou know'st them well — 'tis some moons since 

Thy turban'd troops and blood red flags, 
Thou satrap of a bigot prince! 

Have swarm'd among these Green Sea crags, 
Yet here, ev'n here, a sacred band. 
Ay, in the portal of that land 
Thou, Arab, dar'st to call thy own, 
Their spears across thy path have thrown; 
Here — ere the winds half wing'd thoe o'er- 
Rebellion brav'd thee from the shore. 

Rebellion ! foul, dishonouring word, 

Whose wrongful blight so oft has stainM 
The holiest cause that tongue or sword 

Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. 
How many a spirit, born to bless. 

Hath sunk beneath that withering namC; 
Whom, but a day's, an hour's success 

Had wafted to eternal fame ! 
As exhalations when they burst 
From the warm earth, if chill'd at first, 
If check'd in soaring from the plain. 
Darken to fogs and sink again; — 
But if they once triumphant spread 
Their wings above the mountain-head. 
Become enthron'd in upper air, 
And turn to sun-bright glories there ! 

" H 



166 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And who is he, that wields the might 

Of Freedom on the Green Sea brink. 
Before whose sabre's dazzling light 

The eyes of Yemen's warriors wink 1 
Who comes enbower'd in the spears 
Of Kerman's hardy mountaineers? — 
Those mountaineers, that truest, last, 

Cling to their country's ancient riles, 
As if that God whose eye-lids cast 

Their closing gleams on Iran's heights, 
Among her snowy mountains threw 
The last light of his worship too ! 

'TIsHafed — name of fear, whose sound 
Chills like the muttering of a charm ;— 

Shout but that awful name around, 
And palsy shakes the manliest arm. 

'Tis Hafed, most accurst and dire 

(So rank'd by Moslem hate and ire) 

Of all the rebel Sons of Fire! 

Of whose malign tremendous power 

The Arabs, at their mid-watch hour, 

Such tales of fearful wonder tell. 

That each affrighted sentinel 

Pulls down his cowl upon his eyes, 

Lest Hafed iu the midst should rise ! 

A man, they say, of monstrous birth, 

A mingled race of flkme and earth. 

Sprung from these old, enchanted kings,* 

* Tahmuras, and other ancient kings of Persia 
whose adventures in Fairy-Land among the Peris 
and Dives may be found in Richardson's curious Dis- 
sertation. The griffin Siraoorgh, they say, took some 
feathers from her breast for Talmuras, with which li* 
adorned his helmet, and transmitted them afterward 
to his descendants. 



LLALLA ROOKH, 167 

Who in their fairy helms of yore, 
A feather from the mystic wings 
^ Of the Simoorgh resistless wore ; • 
And gifted by the Fiends of Fire, 
Who groan to see their shrines expire, 
With charms that, all in vain withstood. 
Would drown the Koran's light in blood! 

Such were the tales that won belief. 

And such the colouring Fancy gave 
To a young, warm and dauntless Chief,— 

One who, no more than mortal brave, 
Fought for the land his soul adorM, 

For happy homes, and altars free, — 
His only talisman, the sword. 

His only spell- word Liberty ! 
One ©f that ancient hero line, 
Along whose glorious current shine 
Names that have sanctified their blood ; 
As Lebanon's small mountain-flood 
Is renderM holy by the ranks 
Of sainted cedars on its banks!* 
'Twas not for him to crouch the knee^ 
Tamely to Moslem tyranny, — 
*Twas not for him, whose soul was cast 
In the bright mould of ages past, 
Whose melancholy spirit, fed 
With all the glories of the dead, 
Though framM for Iran's happiest years, 
Was born among her chains and tears ! 
'Twas not for him to swell the crowd 

* This rivulet, says Dandini, is called the Holy Riv ^ 
r from the " cedar-saints.'* among which it rises* 



168 LLALLA ROOKH, 

Of slavish heads, that shrinking bow'd 
Before the Moslem, as he pass'd, 
Like shrubs beneath tlie poison blast— 
No — far he fled, indignant fled 

The pageant of his country's shame ] 
While every tear her children shed 

Fell on his soul like drops of flame ; 
And as a lover hails the dawn 

Of a first smile, so welcomM he 
The sparkle of the first sword drawn 

For vengeance and for liberty I 
But vain was valour — vain the flower 
Of Kerman, in that deathful hour, 
Against Al Hassan's whelming power«— 
In vain they met him, helm to helm, 
Upon tlie threshold of that realm 
He came in bigot pomp to sway, 
And with their corpses blockM his way — 
In vain — for every lance they rais'd. 
Thousands around the conqueror blazM ; 
For every arm that linM their shore, 
Myriads of slaves were wafted o'er, — 
A bloody, bold, and countless crowd, 
Before whose swarms as fast they bow'd- 
As dates beneath the locust cloud ! 
There stood— but one short league away 
From old Harmozia's sultry bay — 
A rocky mountain, o'er the Sea 
Of Oman beetling awfully. 
A last and solitary link 

Of those stupendous chains that reach 
From the broad Caspian's reedy brink 

Down winding to the Green Sea bead; 



LLALLA ROOKH, 169 

Around its base the bare rocks stood, 
Like naked giants in the flood, 

As if to guard the Gulf across ; 
While, on its peak, that brav'd the sky, 
A ruin*d Temple towerM, so high 

That oft the sleeping albatrpss* 
Struck the wild ruins with her wing, 
And from her cloud-rock'd slumbering 
Started — to find man's dwelling there 
In her own silent fields of air! 
Beneath, terrific caverns gave 
Dark welcome to each stormy wave 
That dashM, like midnight revellers, in ;— 
And such the strange, mysterious din 
At times throughout those caverns rolPd— - 
And such the fearful wonders told 
Of restless sprites imprisonM there, 
That bold were Moslem, who would dare, 
At twilight hour, to steer his skifF 
Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff. 

On the land side, those towers sublime, 
That seem' d above the grasp of time, 
Were sever'd from the haunts of men 
By a wide, deep, and wizard glen, 
So fathomless, so full of gloom. 

No eye could pierce the void between ; 
It seem'd a place where Gholes might come 
With their foul banquets from the tomb, 

And in its caverns feed unseen. 
Like distani thunder, from below, 

* These birds sleep in the air. They are most comf 
flion about tlie Cape of Good-Hope. 



170 LLALLA ROOKH. 

The sound of many torrents came ; 
Too deep for eye or ear to know 
If 'twere the sea's imprison'd flow, 

Or floods of ever-restless flame. 
For each ravine, each rocky spire 
Of that vast mountain stood on fire;* 
And, though for ever past the days, 
When God was worshipped in the blaze 
That from its lofty altar shone,— 
Though fled the Priests, the votaries gone, 
Still did the mighty flame burn on 
Through chance and change, through good and ill, 
Like its own God's eternal will. 
Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable ! 

Thither the vanquish M Hafed led 

His little army's last remains ; — 
" Welcome terrific glen!" he said, 
" Thy gloom that Eblis' self might dread, 

'* Is Heav'n to him who flies from chains!" 
O'er a dark, narrow bridge-way, known 
To him and to hia chiefs alone. 
They cross'd the chasm and gain'dthe towers; — 
^' This home," he cried, •* at least is ours — 
• Here may we bleed, unmock'd by hymns 
*' Of Moslem triumph o'er our head; 
*' Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs 

" To quiver to the Moslem's tread, 
" Stretch'd on this rock, while vultures' beaks 
" Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks, 

* The Ghebers generally .built their temples over 
subterraneous fires. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 171 

' Here, — happy that no tyrant's eye 
'^ Gloats on our torments, we may die !" 

'Twas night when to those towers they came ; 

And gloomily the fitful flame, 

That from the ruin'd altar broke, 

Glar'd on his features, as he spoke :— 

*' 'Tiso'er — what men could do, we've done 5 

** If Iran will look tamely on, 

" And see her priests, her warriors driven 

*' Before a sensual bigot's nod, 
*' A wretch, who takes hislusts to heaven, 

" And makes a pander of his god I 
" If her proud sons, her high born souls, 
**Men, in whose veins — oh last disgrace! 
** The blood of Zal and Rfe^sTAM* rolls,— 

*' If they will court this upstart race, 
*' And turn from Mithra's ancient ray, 
*' To kneel at shrines of yesterday ! 
*' If they will crouch to Iran's foes, 

" Why, let them — till the land's despair 
** Cries out to heav'n, and bondage grows 
*' Too vile for ev'n the vile to bear ! 
^* Till shame at last, long hidden, burns 
" Their inmost core, and conscience turns 
** Each coward tear the slave lets fall 
" Back on his heart in drops of gall ! 
", But here, at least, are arms unchain'd, 
** And souls that thraldom never stain'd ; — 

* Ancient heroes of Persia. " Among the Gheber: 
there are some who boast their descent from Rustam." 
Stephen^s Persia. 



172 



LLALLA ROOKH, 



-' This spot, at least, no foot of slave 

» Or satrap ever yet profaned ; 
'•' And, though but few — though fast the wave 

' Of life is ebbing from our veins, 

'' Enough for vengeance still remains. 
*' As panthers, after set of sun, 
" Rush from the roots of Lebanon 
** Across the dark sea-robber's ways,* 
*' We'll bound upon our startled prey ;— 
" And when some hearts that proudest swell 
•• Have felt our falchion's last farewell; 

' When hope's expiring throb is o'er, 
'•' And ev'n despair can prompt no more, 
" This spot shall be the sacred grave 
' •' Of the last few, who vainly brave, 
*' Die for the land they cannot save I" 
His cliiefs stood round — each shining blade 
Upon the broken altar laid — 
And though so wild and desolate 
Those courts where once the mighty sate; 
Nor longer on those mouldering towers 
Was seen the feast of fruits and flowers, 
With which of old the Magi fed 
The wandering spirits of the Dead;t 
Though neither priests nor rights were there 



* V. Russel's account of the panthers attacking 
travellers in the night on the sea-shore about the roots 
of Lebanon. 

t " Among other ceremonies, the Magi used to place 
upon the tops of high towers various lands of rich vi- 
ands, upon which it was supposed the Peris and the 
nirits of their departed heroes regaled themselves." — 

Richardson, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 173 

Kor charmedleaf of pure pomegranate,! 
Nor hymn, nor censer*s fragrant air, 

Nor symbol of their worshipp'd planet ;t 
Yet the same God that heard their sires 
Heard them ; while on that altar's fires 
They swore the latest holiest deed 
Of the few hearts still left to bleed, 
Should be, in Iran's injur'd name, 
To die upon that mount of flame — 
The last of all her patriot line, 
Before her last untrampled shrine! 

Brave, suffering souls ! they little knew 
How many a tear their injuries drew 
From one meek maid, one gentle foe. 
Whom love first touch'd with others' woe — 
Whose life, as free from thought as sin, 
Slept like a lake, till love threw in 
His talisman, and woke the tide, 
And spread its trembling circles wide. 
Once, Emir! thy unheeding child. 
Mid all this havoc, bloom'd and smil'd, — 

I In the ceremonies of the Ghebers round their fire, 
as described by Lord, ** the Daroo," he says, *' giv- 
eth them water to drink, and a pomegranate leaf to 
chew in the mouth, to cleanse them from inward un- 
cleanness." 

t" Early, in the morning, they [the Parsees or 
Ghebers at Oulam] go in crowds to pay their devo- 
tions to the sun, to whom upon all the altars there are 
spheres consecrated, made by magic resembling the 
circles of the sun, and when the sun rises, these orbs 
seem to be inflamed, and to turn round with a great 
noise. They have every one a censer in their hands, 
and offer incense to the sun."— /Ja66i Benjamin* 
H2 



174 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Tranquil as on some battle-plain 

The Persian lily shines and towers, 
Before the combat's reddening stain 

Hath fall'n upon her golden flowers. 
Light-hearted maid, unawM, unmov'd, 
Whde heav'n but spar'd the sire she lovM,. 
Once at thy evening tales of bio od 
Unlistening and aloof she stood — 
And oft when thou hast pacM along 

Thy Haram halls with furiaus heat, 
Hast thou not cursM her cheerful song, 

That came across thee, calm and sweet, 
Like lutes of angels, touchM so near 
Hell's confines, that the damn'd can hear ? 
Far other feelings love hath brought — 

Her soul all flame, her brow all sadness, 
She now has but the one dear thought. 

And thinks that o'er, almost to madness ! 
Oft doth her sinking heart recall 
His words — " for my sake weep for all;" 
And bitterly, as day on day 

Of rebel carnage fast succeeds, 
She weeps a lover snatch'd away 

In every Gheber wretch that bleeds. 
There's, not a sabre meets her eye, 

But with his life-blood seems to swim ; 
There's not an arrow wings the sky. 
But fancy turns its point to him. 
No more she brings with footstep light 
Al Hassan's falchion for the fight; 
And, — had he look'd with clearer sights 
Had not the mists, that ever rise 
From ^ foul spirit, dimm'd his eyes^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 175 

He would have markM her shuddering frame, 
When from the field of blood he cam e, 
The faltering speech — the look estranged — 
Voice, step, and life, and beauty changM — 
He would have mark'd all this, and known, 
Such change is wrought by love, alone ! 

Ah ! not the love, thatjshould have blessM 
So young, so innocent a breast ; 
Not the pure, open, prosperous love. 
That, pledg'd on earth and seal'd above, 
Grows on the world's approving eyes. 

In friendship's smile and home's caress, 
Collecting all the heart's sweet ties 

Into one knot of happiness ! 
No, HiNDA, no — thy fatal flame 
Is nurs'd in silence, sorrow, shame. — 

A passion, without hope or pleasure, 
In thy soul's darkness buried deep, 

It lies like some ill-gotten treasure,-^ 
Some idol, without shrine or name, 
O'er which its pale ey'd votaries keep 
Unholy watch while others sleep! 

Seven nights iiave darken'd Oman's sea, 
Since, last, beneath the moonlight ray. 
She saw his light oar rapidly 
Hurry her Gheber's bark away, 
And still she goes at midnight hour. 
To weep alone in that high bower, 
And watch, and look along the deep 
For him whose smiles first made her weep, - 
But watching, weeping, all was vain. 
She never saw his bark again. 



176 LLALLA ROOKH» 

The owlet's solitary cry, 

The night-hawk, flitting darkly by, 

And oft the hateful carrion-bird, 
Heavily flapping his clogged wing, 
Which reekM with that day's banquetting— 

Was all she saw, was all she heard. 

•Tis the eighth morn— Al Hassan's brow 

Is brighten'd with unusual joy — 
What mighty mischief glads him now, 

Who never smiles but to destroy ? 
Tlie sparkle upon Herkend's sea, 
When tost at midnight furiously,* 
Tells not of wreck and ruin nigh. 
More surely than that smiling eye ! 
" Up, daughter up — the Kerna's breatht 
" Has blown a blast would waken death, 
" And yet thou sleep'st— up, child, and see 
" This blessed day for heaven and me, 
'* A day more rich in Pagan blood 
'* Than ever flash'd o'er Oman's flood. 
" Before another dawn shall shine, 
*' His head, heart, limbs — will all be mine ; 
" This very night his blood shall steep 
" These hands all over e'er I sle^!" — 
" His blood !" she faintly scream'd — her mind 
iStill singling one from all mankind — 
" Yes — spite of his ravines and towers. 

* It is observed with respect to the sea of Herkend 
that when it is tossed by tempestuous winds it spar- 
kles like fire." — Travels of two Mahomedans, 

t A kind of trumpet ; — " it was used by Tamer- 
lane, the sound of which Is described as uncommonly 
dreadful, and so loud as to be heard at the distance- of 
:^cveral imks. ^Richardson, 



^mr^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 177 

" Hafed, my child, this night is ours. 

"** Thanks to all-conquering treachery, 

" Without whose aid the links accurst, 

" That bind these impious slaves, would be 

** Too strong for Alla's self to burst ! 

*' That rebel fiend, whose blade has spread 

** My path with piles of Moslem dead, 

" Whose baffling spells had almost driven 

" Back from their course the swords of heaven, 

" This night, with all his band, shall know 

*' How deep an Arab's steel can go, 

*' When god and vengeance speed the bloWj 

" And — Prophet ! — by that holy wreath 

" Thou wor'st on Ohod's field of death,* 

*' I swear for every sob that parts 

",In anguish from these heathen hearts, 

.♦* A gem from Persia plunder'd mines 

" Shall glitter on thy shrine of shrines. 

" But ha! — she sinks — that look so wild— 

" Those vivid lips — my child, my child, 

" This life of blood befits not thee, 

** And thou must back to Arabt. 

■ ** Ne'er had I riskM thy timid sex 
" In scenes that man himself might dread, 

, " Had I nothopM our every tread 

" Would be on prostrate Persian necks— 
" Curst race, they offer swords instead! 
" But cheer thee, maid — the wind that now 
*' Is blowing o'er thy feverish brow, 

* " Mohammed had two helmets, an interior and 
exterior one ; the latter of, which, called Al Mawash- 
ah, the fillet, or wreathed garland, he wore at the bat 
tie of Ohod. '— Uwwersai History, 



1 



178 IXALLA ROOKH, 

<* To-day shall waft thee from the shore ; 
*' And, ere a drop of this night's gore 
" Have time to chill in yonder towers, 
" Thou'lt see thy own sweet Arab bowers 3 

His bloody boast was all too true — 
There lurkM one wretch among the few 
Whom Hafed's eagle eye could count 
Around him on that Fiery Mount, — 
One miscreant, who for gold betrayM 
The path-way through the valley's shade 
To those high towers where Freedom stood 
In her last hold of fiame and blood. 
Left on the field last dreadful night, 
When sallying from their sacred height, 
The Ghebers fought hope's farewell fight, 
He lay — but died not with the brave; 
That sun, which should have gilt his grave 
Saw him a traitor and a slave ; — 
And, while the few, who thence return'd 
To their high rocky fortress, mourn'd 
For him among the matchless dead 
They left behind on glory's bed, 
He liv'd, and, in the face of morn, 
Laugh'd them and faith and heaven to scorn I 
Oh for a tongue to curse the slave, 

Whose treason like a deadly blight, 
Comes o'er the councils of the brave. 

And blasts them in their hour of night! 
May life's unblessed cup for him 
Be drugg'd with treacheries to the brim, — 
With hopes, that but allure to fly, 

With joys that vanish while hesips^ 



1 



LLALLA ROOKH. 179 

J.ike dead-sea fruits, that tempt the eye, 

But turn to ashes on the lips ! 
I^ts country's curse, his children's shame^ 
Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame, 
May he, at last, with lips of flame 
On the parch'd desert thirsting die, — 
While lakes that shone in mockery nigh 
Are fading off, untouched, untasted 
Like the once glorious hopes he blasted ! 
And, when from earth his spirit flies, 

Jost prophet, let the damn'd-one dwell 
Full in the sight of paradise. 

Beholding heaven, and feeling heU ,' 



180 LLALLA ROOKH, 



Llalla Rookh had had a dream the night be- 
fore, which, in spite of the impending fate of poor 
Hafed, made her heart more than usually cheerful 
during the morning, and gave her cheeks ail the 
freshened animation of a flower that the Bidmusk 
has just passed over. She fancied that she was 
sailing on the Eastern Ocean, where the sea-gipsies 
who live for ever on the water, enjoy a perpetual 
summer in wandering from isle to isle, when she 
saw a small gilded bark approach her. It was like one 
of those boats which the Maldivian islanders annu- 
ally send adrift, at the mercy of winds and waves, 
loaded with perfumes, flowers, and odoriferous wood 
as an off"ering to the spirit whom they call King of 
the Sea. At first, this little bark appeared to be 
empty, but on coming nearer 

She had proceeded thus far in relating the dream 
to her ladies, when Feramorz appeared at the 
door of the pavilion. In his presence, of course, 
every thing else was forgotten, and the continuance 
of the story was instantly requested by all. Fresh 
wood of aloes was set to burn in the cassolets ; — 
the violet sherbets were hastily handed round, and 
after a short prelude on his lute, in the pathetic 
measure of Nava, which is always used to express 
the lamentation of absent lovers, the poet thus 
continued : — 



^^^^swrwm ' , 



LLALLA ROOKH. 181 



The day is lowering— stilly black 
Sleeps the grim wave, while heaven's rack. 
Dispersed and wild, 'twixt earth and sky 
Hangs like a shattered canopy ! 
There's not a cloud in that blue plain 

But tells of storm to come or past ;— 
Here, flying loosely as the mane 

Of a young war-horse, in the blast ; — 
There, rollM in masses dark and swellings 

As proud to be the thunder's dwelling ! 

While some, already burst and riven. 

Seem melting down the verge of heaven ; 

As though the infant storm had rent 
The mighty womb that gave him birth, 

And, having swept the firmament, 
Was now in fierce career for earths 

On earth 'twas yet all calm around, 

A pulseless silence, dread, profound, 

More awful than the tempest's sound. 

The diver steer'd for Ormus' bowers, 

Andmoor'd his skiff till calmer hours ; 

The sea-birds, with portentous screech, 

Flew last to land ; upon the beach 

The pilot oft had paus'd, with glance 

Turn'd upward to that wild expanse ; 

And all was boding, drear and dark 

As her own soul, when Hinda's bark 

Went slowly from the Persian shore — 

No music tini'd the parting oar,»!: 

* **The Easterns used to set out on their longe 
voyages with music" Harmer, 



182 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Nor friends upon the lessening strand 
Lingered to wave the unseen hand, 
Or speak the farewell, heard no more ;-— 
But lone, unheeded, from the bay 
The vessel takes its mournful way, 
Like some ill-dcstin'd bark that steers 
In silence through the Gate of Tears.* 

And where was stern Al Hassan then? 
Could not that saintly scourge of men 
From bloodshed and devotion spare 
One minute for a farewell there ? 
No— close within, in changeful fits 
Of cursing and of prayer, he sits 
In savage loneliness to brood 
Upon the coming night of blood, 

With that keen, second-scent of death, 
By which the vulture snuffs 5iis food 

In the still warm and living breath !t 
While o'er the wave his weeping daughter 
Is wafted from these scenes of slaughter, — 
As a young bird of Babylon,+ 

* '*The Gate of Tears, the straits or passage into 
the Red Sea, commonly called Babelmandel. It re- 
ceived this name from the old Arabians, on account of 
the danger of the navigation, and the number of ship- 
wrecks by which it was distinguished ; which induced 
them to consider as dead, and to wear mourning for a.11 
who had the boldness to hazard the passage through it 
into the Ethiopic ocean." Richardion, 

t *' I have been told that whensoever an animal falls 
down dead, one or more vultures, unseen before, in- 
stantly appear." Pennant^ 

X ** They fasten some writing to the wings of a 
Bagdat. or Babylonian pigeon." Tra/oels of certain 
Englishmen, 



ii' 



LLALLA ROOKH. 183 

Let loose to tell of victory won, 

Flies home, with wing, ah ! not unstain'd 

By the red hands that held her chain'd. 

And does the long-left home she seeks 

Light up no gladness on her cheeks ? 

The flowers she nursM— -the well-known groves, 

Where oft in dreams her spirit roves — 

Once more to see her dear gazelles 

Come bounding with their silver bells ; 

Her birds* new plumage to behold. 

And the gay, gleaming fishes count, 
She left, all filletted with gold. 

Shooting around their jasper fount.* — 
Her little garden mosque to see, 

And once again, at evening hour, 
lo tell her ruby rosary 

In her own sweet acacia bower, — 
Can these delights that wait her now, 
Call up no sunshine on her brow ? 
No — silent, from her train apart, — 
As if ev'n now she felt at heart 
The chill of her approaching doom,— 
She sits, all lovely in her gloom 
-As a pale angel of the grave ; 
t And o'er the wide, tempestuous wave, 
Looks, witH a shudder, to thpse towers, 
Where, in a few short, awful hours, 

* " The Empress of Jahan-Guire used to divert 
herself with feeding tame fish in her canals, some of 
which were many years afterwards known by fillets of 
gold, which she caused to be put round them,'' Hur- 
ris. 



184 LLALLA ROOKH* 

Blood, blood, in streaming tides shall run^ 

Foul incense for to-morrow's sun ! 

" Where art thou, glorious stranger! thou, 

" So lov'd, so lost, where art thou now ? 

" Foe— Gheber— infidel—whate'er 

" Th' un hallo w'd name thou' rt doom'd to bear, 

" Still glorious— still to this fond heart 

" Dear as its blood, whatever thou art ! 

" Yes— Alla, dreadful Alla ! yes— 

" If there be wrong, be crime in this, 

" Let the black waves that round us roll, 

^' Whelm me this instant, ere my soul, 

" Forgetting faith, — home, — father,— all— 

" Before its earthly idol fall, ' 

" Nor worship ev'n thyself abave him — 

*' For oh ! so wildly do I love him, 

^*Thy paradise itself were dim 

"And joyless if not shar'd with him !'* 

Her hands were claspM — her eyes upturned. 

Dropping their tears like moonlight rain ; 
And, though her lip, fond raver ! burn'd 

With words of passion, bold, profane, 
Yet was there light around her brow, 

A holiness in those dark eyes. 
Which show'd — though wandering earthward now 

Her spirit's home was in the skies. 
Yes — for a spirit, pure«as hers, * 

Is always pure, ev'n while it errs ; 
As sunshine, broken in the rill, 
Though turn'd astray, is sunshine still ! 
So wholly had her mind forgot 
All thoughts but one, she heeded not 
The rising storm— the wave that cast 



rp?^K?^^?^.V- - -'M 



LLALLA ROOKH. IS: 

A moment's midnight, as it pass'd, 

Nor heard the frequent shout, the tread 

Of gathering tumult o*er her head — 

Clash'd swords, and tongues that seem'd to vie 

With the rude riot of the sky. — 

But hark !— that war-whoop on the deck— « 

That crash, as if each engine there. 
Mast, sails, and all, were gone to wreck, 

Mid yells and stampings of despair. 
Merciful heav'n ! what can it be ? 
*Tis not the storm, though fearfully 
The ship has shudder'd, as she rode 
O'er mountain waveS' — "Forgive me, God! 
* Forgive me" — shriekM the maid and knelt 
Trembling all over, — for she felt. 
As if her judgment hour was near ; 
While crouching round, half dead with fear, 
Her hand-maids clung, nor breath'd, nor stirr d « 
IVhen, hark ! — a second crash — a third — 
ind now, as if a bolt of thunder 
Had riv'n the labouring planks asunder, 
The deck fails in— what horrors then ! 
Blood, waves, and tackle, swords and men 
Come mixM together through the chasm ;— 
Some wretches in their dying spasm 
Still fighting on — and some that call 
*For God and Iran !" as they fall ! 

iVhose was the hand that turn'd away 
The perils of th' infuriate fray, 
ind snatchM her breathless from beneath 
Phis wilderment of wreck and death ? 
She knew not-^for afaintoesscame 




186 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Chill o'er her, and her sinking frame 
Amid the ruins of that hour 
Lay, like a pale and scorched flower, 
Beneath the red volcano's shower 1 
But oh ! the sights and sounds of dread 
That shock'd her, ere her senses fled ! 
The yawning deck — the crowd that strove 
Upon the tottering planks above — 
The sail, whose fragments, shivering o'er 
The strugglers' heads, all dash'd with gore, 
Flutter'd like bloody flags — the clash 
Of sabres, and the lightning's flash 
Upon their blades, high toss'd about 
Like meteor brands* — as if throughout 

The elements one fury ran, 
One general rage, that left a doubt 

Which was the fiercer, heav'n or man* 

Once too — but no — it could not be — 

'Twas fancy all — yet once she thought. 
While yet her fading eyes could see, 

High on the ruin'd deck she caught 
A glimpse of that unearthly form 

That glory of her soul — ev'n then, 
Amid the whirl of wreck and storm, 

Shining above his fellow men. 
As, on some black and troublous night,- 
rhe star of Egypt,t whose proud light 
Never hath beam'd on those who rest 



* The meteors which Pliny calls, faces, 
t "The brilliant Canopus, unseen in Europe.^ 
climates." Brown, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 187 

In the White Islands of the West,* 

Burns through the storm with the looks of flame 

That put heaven's cloudier eyes to shame ! 

But no — 'twas but the minute's dream — 

A fantasy — and ere the scream 

Had half-way pass'd her pallid lips, 

A death<like swoon, a chill eclipse 

Of soul and sense its darkness spread 

Around her, and she sunk, as dead ! 

How calm, how beautiful comes on 
The stilly hour, when storms are gone ; 
When warring winds have died away, 
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
Melt off, and leave the land and sea 
Sleeping in bright tranquillity, — 
Fresh as if Day again were born, 
Again upon the lap of Morn ! 
When the light blossoms, rudely torn 
And scatter'd at the whirlwind's will, 
Hang floating in the pure air still, 
Filling it all with precious balm. 
In gratitude for this sweet calm ; 
And every drop the thunder-showers 
Have left upon tlie grass and flowers 
Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning-gemt 
Whose liquid flame is born of them ! 

+ V. Wilford's learned Essays on th(J Sacred Isles 
in the West. 

t A precious stone of the Indies, called by ancients 
Ceraunium, because it was supposed to be found in 
places where thunder had fallen. TertuUian says n 
has a glittering appearance, as if there had been fir< 
'in it; and the author of the Dissertation in Hams > 
Voyages suppose it to be the opaU 



188 LLALLA ROOKH. 

When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze; 
There blow a thousand gentle airs, — 
And each a different perfume bears,— 

As if the loveliest plants and trees 
Had vassal breezes of their own 
To watch and wait on them alone, 
And waft no other breath than theirs I 
When the blue waters rise and fall, 
In sleepy sunshine mantling all ; 
And ev'n that swell the tempest leaves. 
Is like the full and silent heaves 
Of lovers* hearts, when newly blest, 
Too newly to be quite at rest I 

Such was the golden hour that broke 

Upon the world, when Hinda woke 

From her long tiance, and heard around 

No motion but the water's sound 

Rippling against the vessel's side, ^ 

As slow it mounted o'er the tide. — 

But where is she? — her eyes are dnik, 

Are wilder' d still — is this the bark, 

The same, that from Harmozia's bay 

Bore her at morn — whose bloody way 

The sea-dog track'd? — no — strange and \\t\^ 

Is all that meets her wondering view. 

Upon a galliot's deck she lies, 

Beneath no rich pavilion's shade. 

No plumes to fan her sleeping eyes, 

Nor jasmine on her pillow laid. 
But the rude litter, roughly spread 
With war-cloaks, is her homely bed, 



Jiyf^'^yrp'^' 



LLALLA ROOKH, 

And shawl and sash, on javelins huug, 
For awning o'er her head are flung. 
Shuddering she look'd around — there lay 

A group of warriors in the sun 
Resting their limbs, as for that day 

Their ministry of death were done. 
Some gazing on the drow|y sea, 
Lost in unconscious reverie ; 
And some who seem'd but ill to brook 
That sluggish calm, with many a look 
To the slack sail impatient cast, 
As loose it ilagg'd around the mast. 

Blest Alla ! who shall save her now 1 

There's not in all that warrior band 
K)ne Arab sword, one turban'd brow 
* From her own faithful Moslem land, 
Their garb — the leathern belt* that wrap?^ 

Each yellow vestt — that rebel hue — 
The Tartar fleece upon their caps]: — 

Yes — ^yes — her fears are all too true. 
And heav'n hath in this dreadful hour, 
Abandoned her to Ha.fed's power ; — 
Hafed, the Gheber ! — at the thought 

Her very heart's blood chills within ; 
He, Vy'hom her soul was hourly taught 

To loathe, as some foul fiend of sin, 
Some minister, whom hell had sent 

* B'Herbdot, Art. Agduani. 

t " The Guebres are known by a dark yelJovv cu 
lour, which the men affect in their clothes." Thcv^ 
not. 

X " The Kolah, or cap, worn by the Persian^, is 
made of the skin of the sheep of Tartary. " W^«r/>?.q 



190 LLALLA ROOKII. 

To spread its blast, where'er he wenU 
And fling, as o'er our earth he trod, 
His shadow betwixt man and God ! 
And she is now his captive, — thrown 
In his fierce hands, alive, alone ; 
His the infuriate band she sees, 
All infidels — all enemies ! 
What was the daring hope that the/) 
Cross'd her like lightning, as again 
With boldness that despair had lent, 

She darted through that armed crowd 
A look so searching, so intent. 

That ev'n the sternest warrior bow'd 
Abash'd, when he her glances caught, 
As if he guess'd whose form they sought. 
But no — she sees him not — 'tis gone, — 
The vision, that before her shone 
Through all the maze of blood and storm.. 
Is fled — 'twas but a phantom's form — 
One of those passing, rainbow dreamr. 
Half light, half shade, which fancy's beams 
Paint on tlie fleeting mists that roll 
In trance or slumber round the soul ! 

But now the bark, with livelier bound, 
Scales the blue wave — the crew's in motion- 

The oars are out, and with light sound 
Break the bright mirror of the ocean, 

Scattering its brilliant fragments round. 

And now she sees — with horror sees 
Their course is tow'rd that mountain hold, — 

Those towers that make her life-blood freeze, 

Where Mecca's godless enemies 



I 



LLALLA ROOKH. 191 

Lie, like beleaguer'd scorpions rolFd 
In their last deadly, venemous fold ! 

Amid th' illumin'd land and flood, 

Sunless that mighty mountain stood, 

Save where, above its awful head, 

There shone a flaming cloud, blood-red, 
As 'twere the flag of destiny 
Hung out to mark where death would be '. 
Had her bewilder'd mind the power 
'Of thought in this terrific hour, 
She well might marvel where or how 
Man's foot could scale that mountain's brow; 
Since ne'er had Arab heard or known 
Of path but through the glen alone. — 
But every thought was lost in fear 
When, as their bounding bark drew near 
The craggy base, she felt the waves 
Hurry them tow'rd those dismal caves 
That from the deep in windings pass 
Beneath that mount's volcanic mass — 
And loud a voice on deck commands 
To lower the mast and light the brands ! — 
Instantly o'er the dashing tide 
Within a cavern's mouth they glide. 
Gloomy as that eternal porch. 

Through which departed spirits go ; — 
Not ev'n the flare of brand and torch 
Its flickering light could further throw 
Than the thick flood that boil'd below. 
Silent they floated — as if each 
Sat breathless, and too awed for speech 
Tn that dark chasm, where even sound 



192 LLALLA ROOKH 

Seem'd dark,— so sullenly around 
The goblin echoes of the cave 
MutterM it o*er the long black wave. 
As 'twere some secret of the grave 1 
But soft — they pause— the current turns 

Beneath them from its onward track ;— 
Some mighty, unseeeu barrier spurns 

The vexed tide, all foaming, back, 
And scarce the oar's redoubled force 
Can stem the eddy's whirling course ; 
When, hark ! — some desp«rate foot has sprung 
Among the rocks — the chain is flung— 
The oars are up— the grapple clings, 
And the tossM bark in moorings swings. 
Just then a day-beam through the shade 
Broke tremulous — -but, ere the maid 
Can see from whence the brightness steal?; 
Upon her brow she shuddering feels 
A viewless hand, that promptly ties 
A bandage round her burning eyes ; 
While the rude litter where she lies, 
Uplifted by the warrior throng, 
O'er the steep rocks is borne along. 
Blest power of sunshine ! genial day. 
What balm, what life is in thy ray ! 
To feel thee is such real bliss, 
That had the world no joy but this, 
To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, — 
It were a world too exquisite 
For man to leave it for the gloom, 
The deep, cold shadow of the tomb ! 
Ev'n HiNDA, though she saw not where 

Or whither wound the perilous road* 



LLALLA ROOKH. 193; 

^'Vet knew by that awakeoiog air, 

Which suddenly around her glow'd, 
That they had ris'n from darkness then, 
Andbreath'd the sunny world again ! 

i3ut soon this balmy freshness fled-^ 

For now the steepy labyrinth led 

Through damp and gloom— 'mid crash of boughs. 

And fall of loosenM craj^s, that rouse 

The leopard from his hungry sleep, 

Who, starting, thinks each crag a prey, 
And long is heard from step to step. 

Chasing them down their thundering way ! 
The jackal's cry — the distant moan 
Of the hyaena, fierce and lone ; — 
And that eternal, saddening sound 

Of torrents in the glen beneath. 
As 'twere the ever-dark profound 

That rolls beneath the Bridge of Death ! 
All, all is fearful— ev'n to see, 

To gaze on those terrific things 
She now but blindly hears, would be 

Relief to her imaginings ! 
Since never yet was shape so dread. 

But fancy, thus in darkness thrown, 
And by such sounds of horror fed, 

Could frame more drtiadful of her own. 

But does she dream ? has fear a^ain 
Perplex'd the workings of her brain. 
Or did a voice, all music, then 
Come f) om the gloom, lew whispering near — 
* Tremble not, love, thy Gheber's here ?" 



■ '™H 



194 LLALLA ROOKH. 



^ 



She does not dream — all sense, all ear, 

She drinks the words, *' Thy Gheber's here.'' 

'Twas his own voice-*6he could not err — 

Throughout the breathing world's extent 
TJiere was but one such voice for her, 

So kind, so soft, so eloquent ! 
Oh ! sooner shall the rose of May 

Mistake her own sweet nightingale, 
And to some meaner minstrel's lay 

Open her bosom's glowing veil, * 
Than love shall ever doubt a tone, 
A breath of the beloved one ! 
Though blest, 'mid all her ills, to think 

She has but one beloved near, 
Whose smile, though met on ruin's brink. 

Hath power to make ev'n ruin dear, — 
Yet soon this gleam of rapture, crost 
By fears for him, is chili'd and lost: 
How shall the ruthless Hafed brook 
That one of Gheber blood should look, 
With aught but curses in his eye, 
On her — a maid of Araby — 
A Moslem maid, the child of him. 

Whose bloody banner's dire success 
Hath left their altars cold and dim. 

And their fair land a vvilderness ! 
And, worse than all, that nighi of blood 

Which came so fast— oh ! who shall stay 
The sword, that once hath tasted food 

Of Persian hearts, or turn its way ? 

* A frequent image among the oriental poets. " The 
nightingales warbled their enchantmg notes, and rent 
(ke thin veils of the rose-bud and the rose." Jami, 



LLALLA ROOKH. l^i^ 

Vhat arm shall then the victim cover, 
Or from her father shield her lover ? 
, ** Save him, my God !" she inly cries — 
"Save him this night — and if thine eyes 

" Have ever welcom'd with delight 
** The sinner's tears, the sacrifice 

" Of sinners' hearts — guard him this night, 
" And here before thy .throne I swear 
From my heart's inmost core to tear 
"Love, hope, remembrance, though they be 
" Link'd with each quivering life-string there, 

" And give it bleeding all to thee ! 
'*Let him but live, the burning tear, 
'* The sighs, so sinful yet so dear, 
" Which have been all too much his own, 
" Shall from this hour be heaven's alone. 
*' Youth pass'd in penitence, and age 
"In long and painful pilgrimage 
" Shall leave no traces of the flame 
" That wastes me now — nor shall his name 
" E'er bless my lips, but when I pray 
'For his dear spirit, that away 
'' Casting from its angelic ray 
" Th' eclipse of earth, he too may shine 
"Redeemed, all glorious and all thine ! 
'* Think — think what victory to win 
•' One radiant soul like his from sin ; — 
" One wandering star of virtue back 
" To its own native, heaven-ward track! 
" Let him but live, and both are thine, 
" Together thine — for blest or curst, 
' Living or dead, his doom is mine, 
'* And if he perish, both are lost ! 



Hi 



i9t) LLALLA ROOKH, 



The next evening Llalla Rookh was entreafc- 
v.^ by her ladies to continue the relation of her 
wonderful dream ; but the fearful interest that hung 
round the fate of Hinda and her lover had'com- 
pletely removed every trace of it frora her mind ; — 
much to the disappointment of a fair seer or two in 
lier train, who prided themselves on their skill in 
interpreting visions, and who had already remarked, 
as an unlucky omen, that the princess, on the very 
morning after the dream, had worn a silk dyed with 
the blossoms of the son owful tree, Nilica. 

Fadladeen, whose wrath had more than once 
broken out during the recital of some parts of this 
most heterodox poem, seemed at length to have 
made up his mind to the infliction , and took his 
mm for the evening with all the patience of a mar- 
lyr, while the poet continued his profane and sedi- 
tious story thus : 



^ '< ,. , Jin' 

LLALLA ROOKH. 195 



To tearless eyes and hearts at ease 
The leaty shores and sun-bright seas, 
That lay beneath that mountain's height, 
Had been a fair, enchanting sight. 
'Twas one of those ambrosial eves 
A day of storm so often leaves 
At its calm setting — when the West 
Opens her golden bowers of rest, 
And a moist radiance from the skies 
Shoots trembling down, as from the eyes 
Of some meek penitent, whose last. 
Bright hours atone for dark ones past, 
And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, 
Shine, as they fall, witli light from heaven ! 

'Twas stillness all— the winds that late 

Had rush'd through Kerman's almond grove* 
And shaken from her bowers of date 

That cooling feast the traveller loves,* 
Now, lull'd to languor, scarcely curl 

The Green Sea wave, whose waters gleam 
Limpid, as if her mines of pearl 

Were melted all to form the stream. 
And her fair islets, small and bright, 

With their green shores reflected there, 
Tiook like those Peri isles of light, 

That hang by spell-work in the air 
But vainly did those glories burst 

* "In parts of Kerman, whatever dates are sha- 
ken from the trees by the wind they do not touch, but 
leave them for those who have not anv, or for travel-* 
\eTa,"'-'Ebn Haukel, 

1 2 



198 LLALLA ROOKH. 

On Hinda's dazzled eyes, when first 
The bandage from her brow was taken, 
And pale and avv'd as those who waken 
In their dark tombs — when, scowling near*- 
The Searcliers of the Grave* appear, — 
She shuddering turn'd to read her fate 

In the fierce eyes thatflash'd around; 
And saw those towers all desolate, 

That o'er her head terrific frown'd, 
As if defying ev'n tlie smile 
Of that soft heaven to gild their pile. 
In vain, with mingled hope and fear, 
She looks for him whose voice so dear 
Had come, like music, to her ear — 
Strange, mocking dream! again 'tis fled. 
And oh! the shoots, the pangs of dread 
Tiiat through her inmost bosom run, 

When voices from without proclaim 
*' Hafed, the Chief — and, one by one. 

The waniors shout that fearful name i 
lie comes — the rock resounds his tread — 
How shall she dare to lift her head, 
Or meet those eyes, whose scorching glare 
Not Yemen's boldest sons can bear? 
In whose red beam the Moslem tells, 
Such rank and deadly lustre dwells, 
4s in those hellish fires that light 
The mandrake's charnel leaves at night !t 

* The two terrible angels, Monkir and Nakir, who 
are called ** the Searchers of the Grave"in the "Creed 
of the orthodo.x Mahometans" given by Oakley, vol. ii. 

■\ "The Arabians call the mandrake *the Devil's 
andle,' on account of its shining appearance in the 
: 'ght," — Richardson. 



:??F'^ ' , u- 



LLALLA ROOKIl. W3 

How shall she bear that voice's tone, 
At whose loud battle-cry alone 
Whole squadrons oft in panic ran, 
Scatter'd, like some v?ist caravan, 
When, stretch'd at evening round the well, 
They hear the thirsting tiger's yell ! 

Breathless she stands, with eyes cast down, 
Shrinking beneath the fiery frown, 
Which, fancy tells her, from that brow 
Js flashing o'er her fiercely now } 
And shuddering, as she hears the tread 

Of his retiring warrior band. — 
Never was pause so full of dread : 

Till Hafed with a irembhng hand 
Took hers, and, leaning o'er her, said, 
'* HiNDA. 1" — that word was all he spoke. 
And 'twas enough— the shriek that broke 

From her full bosom told the rest — 
Panting with terror, joy, surprise. 
The maid but lifts her wondering eyes. 

To hide them on her Gheber's breast! 
'Tis he, 'tis he — the man of blood, 
The fellest of the fire-fiends brood, 
Hafed, the demon of the fight, 
Whose voice unnerves, whose glances bligljJ, 
Is her own lov'd Gheber, mild 
And glorious as when first he smil'd 
In her lone tower, and left such beams 
Of his pure eye to light her dreams, 
That she believ'd her bower had given 
Rest to some wanderer from heaven ! 
Moments there are, and this was onCj 



200 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Snarclrd like a minute's g!eam of sun 
Amid the black Simoom's eclipse — 

Or like those verdant spots that bloom 
Around the crater's burning lips, 

Sweeening the very edge of doom ! 
The past — the future — all that Fate 
Caa bring of dark or det^perate 
Around such hours, but makes them cast 
Intenser radiance while they lastl 

Ev'n he, this youth — though dimm'd and gone 

Each star of Hope that cheer'd him on — 

His glories lost — his cause betray'd — 

Iran, his dear-lov'd country, made 

A land of carcasses and slaves, 

One dreary waste of chains and graves ! 

Himself but lingering, dead at heart. 

To see the last long-struggling breath 
Of liberty's great soul depart, 

Then lay him down, and share her death — 
Ev'n he, so sunk in wretcheduess, 

With doom still darker gathering o'er bim, 
Yet, in this moment's pure caress, 

In the mild eyes that shone before him. 
Beaming that blest assurance, worth 

All other transports known on earth, 
That he was lov'd — well, warmly lov'd— 
Oh ! in this precious hour he prov'd 
How deep, how thorough-felt the glow 
Of rapture kindling out of woe ; 
How exquisite one single drop 
Of bliis, ihus sparkling to the top 
Of misery's cup— how keenly quaiTd, 
Though deatii must follow on the draught! 



LLALLA ROOKH. 201 

iShe too, while gazing on those eyes 

That sink into lier soul so deep, 
Forgets all fears, all miseries, 
Or feels them like the wretch in sleep, 
Whom fancy cheats into a smile, 
Who dreams of joy, and sobd the while I 
The mighty Ruins where they stood, 

Upon the mount's high, rocky verge, 
Lay open towards the ocean flood, 

Where lightly over ih' iiiumin'd surge 
Many a fair bark that, all the day. 
Had lurk'd in sheltering creek or bay. 
Now bounded on and gave their sails, 
Yet dripping, to the evening gales ; 
Like eagles, when the storm is done. 
Spreading their wet wings in the sun. 
The beauteous clouds, though daylight's star 
Had sunk behind the hills ofLAR, 
Where stili right lingering glories bright,— 
As if to grace the gorgeous West, 

The spirit of departing liiiht 
That eve had left his sunny vest 

Behind him ere he wing'd his flight. 
Never was scene so form'd for love ! 
Beneath them waves of crystal move 
In silent swell — heaven glows above, 
And their pure iiearts, to transport given. 
Swell like the wave, and glow like heav'n. 
But ah ! too sron that dream is past — 

Again, again her fear returns ; — 
Night, dreadful night, is gathering fast, 

More faintly the horizon burns, 
And every rosy tint that lay 
On the ismooth sea hath died away, 



202 LLALLA ROOKH, 

Hastily to the darkening skies 

A glance she casts — then wildly criea 

" At night, he said — and look, 'tis near — 

" Fly, fly — if yet ihoii lov'st me, fly — 
*' Soon will his murderous band be here, 

'' And I shall see thee bleed and die. — 
•' Hush! — heard'st thou not the tramp of men 
" Sounding from yonder fearful glen ? — 
" Perhaps ev'n now they climb the wood — 

" Fly, fly— though still the West is bright, 
"He'll come — oh! yes — he wants thy blood — 

*' I know him — he'll not wait fOr night!" 

In terrors ev'n to agony 

She clings around the wonderiag^ Chief: 
*' Alas, poor wdder'd maid ! to me 

" Thou ow'st this raving trance of grief. 
"Lost as I am, nought ever grew 
•' Beneath my shade but perish'd too — 
"My doom is like ihe Dead Sea air, 
" And nothing lives that enters there! 
" Why were our barks together driven 
" Beneath this morning's furious heaven? 
" Why when I saw the prize that chance 

" Had thrown into my desperate arms, — 
" When casting bui a single glance 

'• Upon thy pale and prostrate charrad, 
•' I vow'd (though watching viewless o'er 

" Thy safety through that Jiour's alarms) 
" To meet th' unmanning sight no more— 
'Why have I broke that heart-wrung vow? 
•' Why weakly, madly met thee now 1 — 
• Start not — that noise is but the shock 



.li^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

^* Of torrents through yon valley hurPd— 
*' Dread nothing here—upon lliis rock 
** We stand above the jarring world, 
*' Ah'ke beyond its hope— its dread— 
**In gloomy safety like the dead! 
" Or could ev'n earth and hell unite 
•' In league to storm this Sacred Height, 
*'Fear nothing thou— myself, to-niglu, 
"And each overlooking star that dwells 
**Near God will be thy sentinels, 
*' And, ere to-morrow's dawn shall glow, 

"Back to thy sire " 

>i "To-morrow! — no — " 

The maiden screamM— '* thou'lt never see 
*' To-morrow's sun— death, death will be 
"The night-cry through each reeking tower. 
" Unless we fly, ay, fly this liour ! 
I* Thou art betray'd— some wretch who knew 
" That dreadful glen's mysterious clew— 
*' Nay, doubt not— by yon stars 'tis true— 
'*Plath sold thee to my vengeful sire; 
" This morning, with that smile so dire 
" He wears in joy, he told me all, 
" And stamp'd in triumph through our hail 
" As though thy heart already beat 
"Its last life-throb beneath his feet! 
**GoodHeav'n, how little dream'd I then 
" His victim was my own lov'd youth !— 
" Fly— send— let some one watch the glen— 

" By all my hopes of heaven 'tis truth !" 
Oh! colder than the wind that freezes 

Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd. 
Is that congealing pang which seizes 



20;i 



204 LLALLA ROOKH, 

The trusting bosom, when betrayM 
He felt it — deeply felt — and stood, 
As if the tale had froz'n his blood, 

So amaz'd and motioaless was he ;-" 
Like one whom sudden spells enchant. 
Or some mute marble habitant 

Of the still halls oflsHMONiE!^ 
But soon the painful chill was o'er. 
And his great soul, herself once more- 
Look'd from his broAV in all the rays 
Of her best, happiest, grandest days I 
Never, in moment most elate. 

Did that high spirit loftier rise ;— 
While bright, serene, determinate. 

His looks are lifted to the skies, 
As if the signal-lights of Fate 

Were shining in those awful eyes ' 
'Tis come — his hour of martyrdom 
In Iran's sacred cause is come ; 
And though his life hath pass'd away 
Like lightning on a stormy day, 
Yet shall his death-hour leave a track 

Of glory permanent and bright, 
To which the brave of after-times, 
The suffering brave shall long look back 

With proud regret, — and by its light 

Watch through the hours of slavery's night 
For vengeance on th' oppressor's crimes ! 
This rock his monument aloft, 

* For an account of Ishmonie, the petrified city iw 
Upper Egypt, where it is said there are many stltues 
of men, women, etc. to be seen to this day, v. Pem^y^s 
view of the Levant. 






LLALLA ROOKH. 205 

Shall speak the tale to many an age ; 
And hither bards and heroes oft 

Shall come in secret pilgrimage, 
And bring their warrior aons, and tell 
The wondering boys where Hafed fell, 
And swear them on those lone remains 
Of their lost country's ancient fanes, 
Never — while breath of life shall live 
Within them — never to forgive 
Th' accursed race, whose ruthless chain 
Hath ieft on Iran's neck a stain, 
Blood, blood alone can cleanse again ! 

Such are the swelling thoughts that now 
Enthrone themselves on Hafed's brow : 
And ne'er did saint of Issa* gaze 

On the red wreath, for martyrs twin'd, 
More proudly than the youth surveys 

That pile which through the gloom behind, 
Half lighted by the altar's fire, 
Glimmers, — his destin'd funeral pyre! 
Heap'd by his own, his comrades' hands, 

Of every wood of odorous breath, 
There, by the Fire-God's shrine it stands. 

Ready to fold in radiant death 
The few still left of those who swore 
To perish there, when hope waa o'er — 
The few, to whom that couch of flame, 
Which rescues them from bonds and shame, 
Is sweet and welcome as the bed 
For their own infant Prophet spread, 

* Jesu8« 



'^06 LLALLA ROOKH. 

When pitying Heav'n to roses turned 

Tiie death flames that beneath him burn'd!'- 

With watchfulness the maid attends 
His rapid glance, where'er it bends — 
Why shoot his eyes such awful beams ? 
What plans he now ? what thinks or dreams? 
Alas! why stands he musing here, 
When every moment teems with fear? 
" Hafed, my own beloved Lord," 
She kneeling cries — '* first, last ador'd ! 
" If in that soul thou'st ever felt 

"Half what thy lips irapassion'd swore, 
*'Here on my knees that never knelt 

"To any but their God before, 
" I pray thee, as thou lov'st me, fly — 
" Now, now — ere yet their blades are nigh 
" Oh haste — the bark that bore me hither 

'* Can waft us o'er yon darkening sea 
"East — west — alas I care not whither,- 
" So thou art safe, and I with thee ! 
" Go where we will, this hand in thine, 

" Those eyes before me smiling thus, 
''' Through good and ill, through storm and shine 

" The world's a world of love for us! 
" On some calm, blessed shore we'll dwell, 
" Where 'tis no crime to love too well ; — 
" Where thus to worship tenderly 
" An erring child of light like thee 

-':'• The Ghebers say that when Abraham, their great 
Prophet, was thrown into the fire by order of Nimrod, 
the flame turned, instantly into a " bed of roses, where 
the child sweetly ^reposed." Tavemier, 



LLALLA ROOKH. 207 

" Will not be sin — or, if it be, 
** Where we may weep our faults away, 
"Together kneeling, night and day, 
" Thou, for my sake, at Alla*s shrine, 
*' Andl — at any God's for thine." 

Wildly those passionate words she spoke — 
Then hung her head, and wept for shame 
Sobbing, as if a heart-string broke 

With every deep-heav'd sob that came, 
While he, young, warm — oh ! wonder not 
If for a moment, pride and fame. 
His oath — his cause — that shrine of flame^ 
And Iran's self are all forgot 
For her whom at his feet he sees. 
Kneeling in speechless agonies. 
No, blame him not, if hope awhile 
Dawn'd in his soul, and thr^w her smile 
O'er hours to come — o'er days and nights 
Wing'd with those precious, pure delights 
Which she, who bends all beauteous there^^ 
Was born to kindle and to share ! 
A tear or two, which, as he bow'd 

To raise the suppliant, trembling stole, 
First warn'd him of this dangerous cloud 

CW softness passing o'er his soul. 
Starting he brush'd the drops away, 
Unworthy o'er that cheek to stray ; 
Like one who, on the morn of fight, 
Shakes from his sword the dews of nighf^ 
That had but dimm'd, not stain'd its lighf. 
Yet, though subdued th' unerring thrill, 
Its warmth, its weakness linger'd still 



205 LLALLA ROOKH. 

So louching ia each look and tone, 
That the fond, fearing, hoping maid 
Half counted on the flight she pray'd, 

Half thought the hero's soul was growu 

As soft, as yieldinif as her own, 
And smilM and bless'd him, while he said,— 
" Yes — if there be some happier sphere, 
" Where fadeless truth like ours is dear;— 
** If there be any land of rest 

** For those who love and ne*er forgety 
*' Oh ! comfort thee — for safe and blest 

"We'll meet in that calm region yetl" 

Scarce had she time to ask her heart 
If good or ill those words impart, 
When the rous'd youth impatient flew 
To the tower-wall, where, high in view, 
A ponderous sea-horn* hung, and blew 
A sigRal, deep and dread as these 
The storm-fiend at his rising blows, — 
Full well his Chieftains, sworn and true 
Through life and death, that signal knew; 
For 'twas th' appointed warning blast, 
Th' alarm to tell when hope was past, 
And the tremendous death die cast ! 
And there, upon the mouldering tower, 
Hath hung this sea-horn many an hour, 
Ready to sound o'er land and sea 
That dirge-note of the brave and free. 

*" The shell called Silankos, common to India, Afri- 
ca, and the Mediterranean and still used m many parts 
as a trumpet for blowing alarms or giving signals : it 
sends forth a deep and hollow sound.— Pennant. 



f^.w^^rr. ' 



LLALLA ROOKH. 209 

They came — his Chieftains at the call 
Came slowly roundi and with them all— 
Alas, how few !— the worn remains 
Of those who late o'er Kerman's plains 
Went gaily prancing to the clash 

Of Moorish zel and tymbalon, 
Catching new hope from every flash 

Of their long lances in the sun— 
And, as their coursers chargM the wind, 
And the white ox-tails streamM behind,*' 
Looking, as if the steeds they rode 
Were wingM, and every Chief a Gad ! 
How fallen, how alterM now ! how wan 
Each ^carrM and faded visage shone. 
As round the burning slirine they came ; — 

How deadly was the glare it cast, 
As mute they paus'd before the flame 

To light their torches as they pass'd 1 
'Twas silence all— 'the youth had plann'd 
The duties of his soldier-band ; 
And each determined brow declares 
His faithful Chieftains well know theirs. 

But minutes speed — night gems the skies — 
And oh how soon, ye blessed eyes, 
That look from heaven, ye may behold 
Sights that will turn your star-fires cold ! 
Breathless with awe, imj)atience, hope, 
The maiden sees the veteran group, 
Her litter silently prepare, 

,» * **The finest ornament for the horses is made o^ 
six large flying tassels of long white hair, taken out of 
the tails of wild oxen, that are to be found in som^ 
places of the Indies." Thevenot. 



210 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And lay it trembling at her feet; — 
And now the youth, with gentle care, 

Hath plac'd her in the shelter'd seat, 
And press'd her hand — that lingering press 
Of hands, that for the last time sever ; 
Of hearts, whose pulse of happiness, 
When that hold breaks is dead for ever. 
And yet to her this sad caress 

Gives hope — so fondly hope can err! 
'Tvvas joy, she thought, joy's mute excess — 

Their happy flight's dear harbinger; 
' Twas warmth — assurance — tenderness— 

'Twas any thing but leaving her. 
" Haste, haste !" she cried *' the clouds grow dark," 
"But still, ere night, we'll reach the bark; 
" And by to-morrow's dawn — oh bliss ! 

" With thee upon the sunbright deep, 
'' Far off I'll but remember this, 

" As some dark vanish' d dream of sleep i 
"And thou " but ha ! — he answers not — 

Good Heav'n I—and does she go alone ? 
She now has reach'd that dismal spot, 

Where some hours since, his voice's lone. 
Had come to soothe her fears and ills, 
Sweet as the Angel Israfil's,* 
When every leaf on Eden's tree 
Is trembling to his minstrelsy — 
Yet now — oh now, he is not nigh — 

" Hafbd! my HAFEDl—if it be 
•' Thy will, thy doom this night to die, 

" Let me but stay to die with thee, 

♦ " The Angel Irisfil, who has the most nielodiojUJ? 
voice of all God's creatures."— ^a/e» 



w:kw^^^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. lit 

* ' And I will bless thy loved name, 
** Till the last life-breath leave this frame. 
^* Oh ! let our lips, our cheeks be laid 
*' But near each other while they fade ; 
" Let us but mix our parting breaths, 
" And I can die ten thousand deaths! 
" You too, who hurry me away 
" So cruelly, one moment stay — 

*' Oh ! stay — one moment is not much — 
*•' He yet may come — for him I pray — 
'' Hafed ! dear Hafed ! — " all the way 

In wild lamentings, that would touch 
A heart of stone, she shriekM his name 
To the dark woods — no Hafed came : — 
No — hapless pair — ^you've look'dyour last : 

Your hearts should both have broken then ; 
The dream is o'er — your doom is cast— 

You'll never meet on earth again ! 
Alas for him, who hears her cries ! — 

Still half-way down the steep he stands, 
Watching with fix'd and feverish eyes 

The glimmer of those burning brands, 
That down the rocks, with mournful ray. 
Light all the loves on earth away! 
Hopeless as they who, far at sea, 

By the cold moon havejustconsign^l 
The corse of one, lov'd tenderly. 

To the bleak flood they leave behind 
And on the deck still lingering stay, 
And long look back with sad delay, 
To watch the moonlight on the wave, 
That ripples o'er that cheerless gravp 



212 LLALLA ROOKH. 

But see — he starts — what heard he then ? 

That dreadful shout! — across the glen 

From the land it comes, and loud 

Rings through the chasm ; as if the crowd 

Of fearful things, that haunt that dell 

Its Gholes and Dives and shapes of hell 

Had all in one dread howl broke out, 

So loud, so terrible that shout! 

" They come— the Moslems come !" — ^he cries?; 

His proud soul mounting to his eyes, 

'* Now, spirits of the brave, who roam 

" Enfranchis'd through yon starry dome, 

" Rejoice — -for souls of kindred fire 

''Are on the wing to join your choir !" 

He said— and, light as bridegrooms' bound 

To their young loves, reclimb'd the steep, 
And gain'd the shrine — his chiefs stood round ; 

Their swords, as with instinctive leap, 
Together at that cry accurst, 
Had from their sheaths, like sunbeams burst. 
And hark! — again — again it rings; 
Near and more near its echoings 
Feal through the chasm — oh ! who that tlieit 
Had seen those listening warrior-men. 
With their swords grasp'd, their eyes of flame 
Turned on their chief— could doubt the shame, 
Th' indignant shame with which they thrill 
To hear those shouts and yet stand still ? 
He read their thoughts — they were his own — 

" What ! while our arms can wield these bladf 
*' Shall we die tamely ? die alone ? 

" Without one victim to our shades, 
"One Moslem heart where; buried deep. 



I 



LLALLA ROOKH. 313 

•=* The sabre from its toil may sleep ? 
" No — God of Iran's burning skies 1 
" Thou scorn'st th' inglorious sacrifice. 
** No — though of all earth's hope bereft, 
** Life, swords, and vengeance still are left, 
" We'll make yon valley's reeking caves 

"Live in the awe-struck minds of men, 
*' Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves 

" Tell of the Gheber's bloody glen. 
" Follow, brave hearts ! — this pile remains 
*' Our refuge still from life and chains ; 
** But his the best, the holiest bed, 
** Who sinks entomb'd in Moslem dead ! 

Down the precipitous rocks they sprung, 
While vigour, more than human, strung 
Each arm and heart— Th' exulting foe 
Still through the dark defiles below, 
Track'd by his torches' lurid fire, 

Wound slow, as through Colconda's vale ^' 
The mighty serpent, in his ire, 

Glides on with glittering, deadly trailr 
No torch the Ghebers need — so well 
They know each mystery of the dell, 
So oft, have in their wanderings, 
Cross'd the wild race tliat round them dwell, 
The very tigers from their delves 
Lookout, and let them pass, as things 
Untam'd and fearless as themselves ! 

There was a deep ravine, that lay 
Yet darkling in the Moslem's way ; — 

* V. Hoole upon the story of Sinbad, 

I K 



S14 LLALLA ROOKH, 

Fit spot to make invaders rue 

The many fallen before the few. 

The torrents from that morning's sky 

Had fiU'd the narrow chasm breast-high, 

And, on each side, aloft and wild, 

Huge cliffs and toppling crags were pil'd, 

The guards, with which young Freedom lines 

The pathways to her mountain shrines. 

Here, at this pass, the scanty band 

Of Iran's last avengers stand — 

Here wait, in silence like the dead, 

And listen for the Moslem's tread 

So anxiously, the carrion-bird 

Above them flaps his wings unheard ! 

They come — that plunge into the water 
Givessignal for the work of slaughter. 
Now, Ghebers, now — if e'er your blades^. 

Had point or prowess, prove them now — 
Woe to the file that foremost wades! 

They come — a falchion greets each brow, 
And, as they tumble, trunk on trunk. 
Beneath the gory waters sunk, 
Still o'er their drowning bodies press 
New victims quick and numberless ; 
Till scarce an arm in Hafed's band. 

So fierce their toil, hath power to stir. 
But Hsdess from each crimson hand 

The sword hangs, clogg'd with massacre. 
Never was horde of tyrants met 
With bloodier, welcome — never yet 
To patriot vengeance hath the sword 
More tevrible libations pour'd! 



LLALLA ROOKH. ^^15 

All up the dreary, long ravine, 
By the red, murky glimmer seen 
Of half-quenchM brands, that o'er the flood 
Lie scaiterM round and burn'd in blood. 
What ruin glares ! what carnage swims ! 
Heads, blazing turbans, quivering limbs, 
Lost swords that, dropp'd from many a hand. 
In that thick pool of slaughter stand ; — 
Wretches who wading, half on fire 

From the tossM brands that round them fly, 
*Twixt flood and flame in shrieks expire ; — 

And some that, graspM by those that die, 
Sink woundless with them, smother'd o'er 
In their dead brethren's gushing gore ! 

But vainly hundreds, thousands bleed, 
Still hundreds, thousands more succeed ;— 
Countless as towards some flame at night 
The North's dark insects wing their flight,, 
And quench or perish in its light. 
To this terrific spot they pour — 
Till bridg'd with Moslem bodies o'er, 
It bears aloft their slippery tread. 
And o'er the dying and the dead, 
Tremendous causeway ! on they pass.- 
Then, hapless Ghebers, then, alas, 

What hope was left for you ? for you, 
Whose yet warm pile of sacrifice 
Is smoking in their vengeful eyes — 
Whose swords how keen, h^w fierce they kncv> 
And burn with shanie to find how few. 
^rush'd down by that vast multitude, 
Some fbund their graves where first they stood » 



216 LLALLA ROOKH. 

While some with hardier struggle died^ 
And still fought on by Hafed's side> 
Who, fronting to the foe, trod back 
Tow'rds the high towers his gory track ; 
And as a lion, swept away 

By sudden swell of Jordan's pride, 
From the wild covert where he lay, * 

Long battles with the o'erwhelming tide, 
So fought he back with fierce delay, 
And kept both foes and fate at bay. 

But whither now ? their track is lost, 
Their prey escap'd — guide, torches gone, 

Ay torrent-beds and labyrinths crost. 
The scatter'd crowd rush blindly on — 

*■ Curse on those tardy lights that wind," 

They panting cry, *' so far behind — 

" Oh for a bloodhound's precious scent, 

" To track the way the Gheber went I" 

Vain wish — confusedly along 

They rush, more desperate as more wrong : 

Till, wilderM by the far-off lights. 

Yet glittering up those gloomy heights, 

Their footing, maz'd and lost, they miss, 

And down the darkling precipice 

Are dash'd into the deep abyss ; 

Or midway hang, impal'd on rocks, 

* **In this thicket, upon the banks of the Jordan, 
several sorts of wild beasts are wont to harbour them- 
selves, whose being washed out of the covert by the 
overflowings of the river gave occasion to that allusion 
of Jeremiah, he shall come up like a lion from thi 
swelling of Jordan »^* MaundreWs Aleppo, 



■' , • ^ ■ '■ ■ ^^ 4^ 

LLALLA ROOKH. 2T7 

A banquet, yet alive, for flocks 

Of ravening vultures — while the dell 

Re-echoes with each horrible yell. 

Those sounds — the last, to vengeance dear. 
That e'er shall ring in Hafed's ear, — 
yow reached him, as aloft, alone, 
Upon the steep way breathless thrown, 
He lay beside his reeking blade, 

Resigned as if life's task were o'er; 
Its last blood-offering amply paid, 

And Iran's self could claim no more. 
One only thought, one lingering beam 
Now broke across his dizzy dream 
Of pain and weariness— 'twas she 

His peart's pure planet, shining yet 
Above the waste of memory. 

When all life's other lights were sett 
And never to his mind before 
Her image such enchantment wore. 
It seem'd as if each thought that stain'd. 

Each fear that chill'd their loves was past, 
And not one cloud of earth remain'd 

Between him and her glory cast ; 
As if to charms, before so bright, 

New grace from other worlds was given, 
And his soul saw her by the light 

Now breaking o'er himself from heaven ! 
A voice spoke near him — 'twas the tone 
Of a lov'd friend, the only one 
Of all his warriors, left with life 
From that short night's tremendous strife. — 
" And must we tlien, my Chief, die here ? — 
VFoes round us, and the shrine so near '." 



^18 LLALLA ROOKH. 

These words have rousM the last remains 

Of life within him — *' whatl not yet 
*' Beyond the reach of Moslem chains I'* — 
The thought could make ev'n death forget 
His icy bondage — with a bound 
He springs, all bleeding, from the ground, 
And grasps his comrade's arm, now grown 
Ev'n feebler, heavier than his own, 
And up the feeble pathway leads, 
Death gaining on each step he treads. 
Speed them, thou God, who heard'st their vow ! 
They mount — they bleed — oh save them now ! — 
The crags are red they've clamber'd o'er, 
The rock-weeds dripping with their gore — 
Thy blade too, Hafed, false at length, 
Now breaks beneath thy tottering strength — 
Heiste, haste — the voices of the foe 
Come near and nearer from below — 
One effort more — thank heaven ! 'tis past, 
They've gain'd the topmost steep at last. 
And now they touch the temple's walls, 

Now Hafed sees the Fire divine — 
When, lo ! — his weak, worn comrade falls 

Dead on the threshold of the shrine. 
*' Alas, brave soul, too quickly fled! 

'* And must I leave thee withering here, 
" The sport of every rufiian's tread, 

" The mark for every coward's spear? 
" No, by yon altar's sacred beams ! " 
He cries, and, with a strength that seems 
Not of this world, uplifts the frame 
Of the fall'n Chief, and tow'rds the flame 
Bears him along ;— with death-damp hand 






LLALLA KOOKH. ^19 

J'he corps upon the pyre he lays, 
Tiien lights the consecrated brand, 

And fires the pile, whose sudden blaze 
Like lightning bursts o'er Oman's sea,— 

*' Now, Freedom's God ! I come to thee," 
The youth exclaims, and with a smile 
Of triumph vaulting on the pile, 
In that last effort, ere the fires 
Have harm'd one glorious limb, expires! 

What shriek was that on Oman's tide ? 

It came from yonder drifting bark. 
That just has caught upon her side 

The death-light— and again is dark. 
It is the boat — ah, why delay'd 1 — 
That bears the wretched Moslem maid; 
Confided to the watchful care 

Of a small veteran band, with whom 
' ^heir generous Chieftain would not share 

The secret of his final doom ; 
But hop'd when Hinda, safe and free, 

Was render'd to her father's eyes, 
Their pardon, full and prompt would be 

The ransom of so dear a prize. 
Unconscious, thus, of Hafed's fate. 
And proud to guard their beauteous freight; 
Scarce had they clear'dthe surfy waves 
That foam around those frightful caves, 
When the curst war-whoops, known so well, 
Come echoing from the distant dell — 
Sudden each oar, upheld and still. 

Hung dripping o'er the vessel's side, 
And driving at the current's will, 



S20 LLALLA ROOKH. 

They rock'd along the whispering tide^ 
While every eye in mute dismay, 

Was tow'rd that fatal mountain turn'd, 
Wiiere the dim altar's quivering ray 

As yet all lone and tranquil burn'd. 

Oh ! 'tis not, Hinda, in the povtrer 

Of fancy's most terrific touch, 
To paint thy pangs in that dread hour — 

Thy silent agony — 'twas such 
As those who feel could paint too well. 
But none e'er felt and liv'd to tell ! 
'Twas not alone the dreary stale 
Of a lorn spirit, crush'd by fate,. 
When, though no more remains to dread, 

The panic chill will not depart ;— 
When though the inmate hope be dead. 

Her ghost still haunts the mouldering heart. 
No — pleasures, hopes, affections gone, 
The wretch may bear, and yet live on. 
Like things, within the cold rock found 
Alive, when all's congeal'd around. 
But there's a blank repose in this, 
A calm stagnation, that were bliss 
To the keen, burning, harrowing pain, 
Now felt through all thy breast and brain — 
That spasm of terror, mute, intense. 
That breathless, agoniz'd suspense. 
From whose hot throb, whose deadly aching 
The heart hath no relief but breaking ! 

Calm is the wave — heav'n's brilliant lights 
Reflected dance beneath the prow » 



LLALLA ROOKH. 331 

Time was when, on such lovely nights 

She who is there, so desolate now, 
Could sit all cheerful, though alone, 

And ask no happier joy than seeing 
That star-light o'er the waters thrown— 
No joy but that to make her blest, 

And the fresh, buoyant sense of being 
That bounds in youth's yet careless breast. 
Itself a star not borrowing light. 
But in its own glad essence bright. 
How different now '.—but, hark, again 
The yell of havoc rings — brave men i 
In vain, with beating hearts, ye stand- 
Half draw the falchion from its sheath ; 

All's o'er — in rust your blades may lie ; 
He, at whose word they've seatter'd death. 

Ev'n now, this night, himself must die! 
Well may ye look to yon dim lower, 

And ask, and wondering guess what means 
The battle cry at this dead hour — 

Ah ! she could tell you — she, who leans 
Unheeded there, pale, sunk, aghast. 
With brow against the dew cold mast- 
Too well she knows — her more than life, 
Her soul's first idol and its last, 

Lies Weeding in that murderous strife. 
But see — what moves upon the height ? 
Some signal ! — 'tis a torch's light. 

WJiat bodes its solitary glare 1 
In gasping silence lov/'rd the shrine 
All eyes are turn'd — thine, Hinda, thine 

Fixt their last failing life-beam there. 
Tv as but a moment — ^fierce and high 



222 LLALLA ROOKH 

The death-pile blaz'd into the sky, 
And far away o'er rock and flood 

Its melancholy radiance sent; 
While Hafed, like a vision, stood 
Reveal'd before the burning pyre, 
Tall, shadowy, like a spirit of fire 

Shrin'd in its own grand element ! 
'' 'Tis he !" — the shuddering maid exclaimfl,— 

But, while she speaks, he's seen no more ; 
High burst in air the funeral flames, 

And Iran's hopes and hers are o'er ! 

One wild, heart-broken shriek she gave — 
Then sprung, as if to reach the blaze, 
Where still she fix'd her dying gaze, 
And, gazing, sunk into the wave, — 
Deep, deep, — where never care or pain 
Shall reach her innocent heart a^ain ! 



Farewell — farewell to tliee, Araby's daughter I 
(Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark^ea) 

No pearl ever lay under Oman's green water, 
More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee. 

Oh ! fair as the sea-flower close to the growing, 
How light was thy heart till love's witchery 
came, 
Like the wind of the south* o'er a summer lute 
blowing, 
And hush'd all its music and wither'd its frame! 

* **This wind [the Samoor] so oftens the strings of 

lutes, that they can never be tuned while it lasts." — 

Stephen's FersiaJ^ 



-rr^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 223 

But long, upon Araby's green sunny highlands, 
Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom 

Of her, who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands, 
With nought but the sea star*,to light up her tomb. 

And still, when the merry date-season is burning, 
And calls to the palm-groves the young and the 
old,t 

The happiest there, from their pastime returning 
At sun-set, will weep when thy story is told. 

The young village maid, when with flowers she 
dresses 

Her dark flowing hair for some festival day, 
Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses, 

She mournfully turns from the mirror away. 

Nor shall Iran, belov'd of her Hero ! forget thee,— 
Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start, 

Close, close by the side of that Hero sheMl set thee, 
Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart. 

Farewell — be it ours to embellish thy pillow 

With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep ; 
Each flower of the rock and each gem of the billow 
Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep. 

* '*One of the greatest curiosities found in the Per- 
sian Gulf is a fish which the English call Star-fisli. 
It is circular, and at night very luminous, resemblini? 
the full moon surrounded by rays." — Mirza Abu 
Taleb. 

t For a description of the merriment of the date- 
time, of their work, their dances, and their return home 
♦Vom the palm-groves at the end of autumn with the 

•iits, v. Kempfer, Anusnitat^ Exot, 



224 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber 
That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept;* 

With many a shell; in whose hollo w-wreathM cham- 
ber, 
We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept. 

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, 

And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head ; 
We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian t are 
sparkling, 
And gather their gold to strew over thy bed. 
Farewell — farewell — until Pity's sweet fountain 
Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave, 
They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that 
mountain, 
They'll weep for the Maiden who sleeps in this 
wave. 

* Some naturalists have imagined that amber is a con- 
cretion of the tears of birds. —Trevcma;, Chambers, 

t " The bay of Kieselarke, which is otherwise called 
Ihe Goldqn Bay, the sand whereof shines as fire."-- 

Struy^ 



r 



LLALLA ROOKH. 225 



fHE Singular placidity with which Fadladeen had 
listened, during the latter part of this obnoxious sto- 
ry, surprised the Princess and Feramorz exceed- 
ingly ; and even inclined towards him the hearts of 
these unsuspicious young persons, who litde knew 
the source of complacency so marvellous. The truth 
was, he had been organizing, for the last few days, 
a most notable plan of persecution against the poet, 
in consequence ofsome passages that had fallen from 
him on the second evening of recital, which appear- 
ed to this worthy Chamberlain to contain language 
and principles, for which nothing short of the sum- 
mary criticism of the Chabuk* would be advisable. 
It was his intention, therefore, immediately on their 
arrival at Cashmere, to give information to the king 
pf Buchana of the v^^ry dangerous sentiments of his 
minstrel ; and if, unfortunately, that monarch did 
not act with suitable vigour on the occasion, (that 
IS, if he did not give the Chabuk to Feramorz, and 
a place to Fadladeen,) there would be an end, he 
teared, of all legitimate government in Bucharia. 
He could not help, however, auguring better for 
himself and the cause of potentates in general; and 
it was the pleasure arising from these mingled anti- 
cipations that diffused such unusual satisfaction 
through his features, and made his eves shine out 
like poppies of the desert, over the wiSe and lifeless 
wilderness of that countenance. 

Having decided upon the Poet's chastisement in 
this manner, he thought it but humanity to spare 
liim the minor tortures of criticism. Accordingly, 
when they assembled next evening in the pavilion, 
and Llalla Rookh expected to see all the beau- 
ties of her bard melt away, one by one, in the acidi- 
Ity of criticism, like pearls in the cup of the Egyptian 

^ '*The application of whips or rods."— />m6ow. 



'226 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Queen — he agreeably disappointed ber by merely 
saying, with an ironical smile, that the merits oi 
such a poem dese;"ved to be tried at a much higher 
tribunal; and then suddenly passing off into a 
panegyric upon all Mussulman sovereigns, more par- 
ticularly his august and Imperial master, Aurung- 
zebe — the wisest and best of the descendants ofTi- 
jiiur — who, among other great things he had done 
for mankind, had given to him, Fadladeen, the ve- 
ry profitable posts of Bethel carrier and Taster of 
Sherbets to the Emperor, Chief Holder of the Gir- 
dle of beautiful Forms,* and Grand Nazir or Cham- 
berlain of the Haram. 

They were now not far from that Forbidden Ri- 
ver,! beyond which no pure Hindoo can pass ; and 
were reposing for a time in the rich valley of Hus- 
-sun Abdaul, which had always been a favourite rest- 
ing-place of the emperors in their annual migrations 
toCashmere. Here often had the Light of the Faith. 
Jehanguire, wandered with his beloved and beauti 
ful Nourmahal; and here would Llalla Rookh 
have been happy to remain for ever, giving up the 
throne of Bucharia and the world for Feramorz 
and love in this sweet lonely valley. The time was 
now fast approaching when she must see him no 
longer — or see him with eyes whose every look be- 
longed to another ; and there was a melancholy pre- 
ciousness in these last moments, which made her 
heart cling to them as it would to life. During the 
latter part of the journey, indeed, she had sunk into- 
a deep sadness, from which nothing but the pre- 
sence of the young minstrel could awake her. Like 

* Kempfer mentions such an officer among the at- 
tendants of the King of Persia, and calls him, " for- 
mae corporis estimator." His business was, at stated 
periods, to measure the ladies of the Haram by a sort 
of regulation-girdle, whose limits it was not thought 
graceful to exceed. If any of them outgrew this stan- 
dard of shape, they were reduced by abstinence til] 
they came within its bounds. 

t The Attock. 



LLALLA ROOKH. 227 

those lamps in tombs, which only light up when the 
air is admitted, it was only at his approach that her 
eyes became smiling and animated. But here in 
this dear valley, every moment was an age of plea» 
sure ; she saw him all day, and was, therefore, all 
day happy— resembling, she often thought, that peo- 
ple of Zinge, who attribute the unfading cheerful- 
ness they enjoy to one genial star that rises nightly 
over their heads.* 

The wliole party, indeed, seemed in their liveliest 
mood during the few days they passed in this de-i 
lightful solitude. The young attendants of the 
Princess, who were here allowed a freer range than 
they could safely be indulged with in a less sequester- 
ed place, ran wild among the gardens and bounded 
through the meadows lightly as young roes over the 
aromatic plains of Tibut. While Fadladeen, be- 
side the spiritual comfort he derived from a pilgri- 
mage to the tomb of the Saint from whom the val- 
ley is named, had opportunities of gratifying in a 
small way, his taste for victims, by putting to death 
some hundreds of those unfortunate little lizards, 
which all pious Mussulmans make it a point to kill; 
taking for granted, that the manner in which the 
creature hangs its head is meant as a mimicryK)f the 
attitude in which the Faithful say their prayers ! 

About two miles from Hassun Abdaul were those 
Royal Gardens, which had grown beautiful under 
the care of so many lovely eyes, and were beautiful 
still, though those eyes could see them no longero 
This place, with its flowers and itshol}^ silence, in- 
terrupted only by the dipping of the wings of birds 
in its marble basons filled with the pure water of 
those hills, was to Llalla Rookh all that her heart 
could fancy of fragrance, coolness, and almost hea- 
venly tranquillity. As the Prophet said of Damas- 
cus, "it was too delicious;" — and here, in listening 
to the sweet voice of Feramorz, or reading in • hisr 
eyes what yet he never dared to tell her, the most 

* The Star Soheil, or Canopus, 



228 LLALLA ROOKH. 

exquisite moments of her whole life were passed^ 
One evening, when they had been talking of the 
Sultana Nourmalial — the Light of the Haram,* who 
had so often wandered among these flowers, and 
fed with her hands, in those marble basons, the 
small shining fishes of which she was so fond,t— 
the youth, in order to delay the moment of separa- 
tion, proposed to recite a short story, or rhapsody, 
of which this adored Sultana was the heroine. It 
related, he said, to the reconcileraeutof a sort of lo- 
vers' quarrel, which took place between her and the 
Emperor during a Feast of Roses at Cashmere ; and 
would remind the Princess of that difference be- 
tween Haroun-al-Raschid and his fair mistress Ma- 
rida, which was so happily made up by the soft 
.strains of the musician, Moussali, As the story wag 
chiefly to be told in song, and Feramorz had un- 
luckily forgotten his own lute in the valley, he bor- 
rowed the vina of Llalla Rookh\s little PersiaB 
slave, and thus began : — 

* Nourmahal signifies Light of the Haram, She was 
afterwards called Nourjehan or the light of the World, 

t V. note, vol. i. p. 217. 



mw^'''fw^~T'- ;^yp 



LLALLA ROOKH. 229 



Who has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, 
With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave,* 

Its temples, and grottos, and fpuntaios as clear 
As the love-Hghted eyes that hang over their 
wave ? 

Oh ! to see it at sunset, — when warm o'er the lake 
Its splendour, at parting, a summer eve throws. 

Like a bride full of blushes, when lingering to take 

A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes ! — 

When the shrines through the foliage are gleam- 
ing half shown, 

Ind each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. 

Here the music of pray'r from a minaret swells, 
Here the magian his urn full of perfume is swing- 
ing, 

Vnd here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells 
Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is 
ringing.t 

)r to see it by moonlight, — when mellowly shines 

The light o'er its palaces, gardens and shrines ; 

Vhen the water-falls gleam like a quick fall of 
stars, 

ind the nightingale's hymn from the Isle; of Che- 
nars 



* ** The rose of Cashmere for its brilliancy and de- 
cacy of odour has long been proverbial in the East. ' ' 

Forster, 

t " Tied round her waist the zone of bells, that 
lunded with ravishing meiody.^^-Simg ofJayadeva^ 



^30 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet 
From the cool, shining walks where the young 

people meet. — 
Or at mora, when the magic of daylight awakes 
A new wonder each minute as slowly it breaks, 
Hills, cupolas, fountains, callM forth every one 
Out of darkness, as they were just born of the sun . 
When the spirit of fragrance is up with the day, 
From his Haram of nighj-flowers stealing away ; 
And the wind, full of wantonness, woos like a lover 
The young aspen -trees* till they tremble all over. 
When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, 

And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurPd, 
Shines in through the mountainoust portal that opes 

Sublime, from that valley of bliss to the world! 

But never yet, by night or day, 
In dew of spring or summer's ray, 
Did the sweet valley shine so gay 
As now it shines— all love and light, 
Visions by day and feasts by night ! 
A happier smile illumes each brow, 

With quicker spread each heart uncloses, 
And all is ecstacy,— for now 

The valley holds its feast of roses4 
That joyous time, when pleasures pour 
Profusely round, and in their shower 

* " The little isles in the lake Cachenure are set 
with arbours and large-leaved aspen-trees, slender 
and tall." Bemier. 

t " The Tuckt Saliman, the name bestowed by the 
Mahometans on this hill, forms one side of a grand 
portal to the Lake."— -Forsfer. , 

J *'The Feast of Roses continues the whole time 
of iheir remaining in blooro.^'— v. Pietro de la Valle. 



LLALLA ROOKH. -23] 

Hearts open like the season's rose — 

The flowret of a hundred leaves,* 
Expanding while the dew-fall flows, 

And every leaf its balm receives ! 
'Twas when the hour of evening came 

Upon the Lake, serene and cool, 
When day had hid his sultry flame 

Behind the palms of J5ARAW0ULE.t 
When maids began to lift their heads^ 
Refresh'd from their embroider'd beds, 
Where they had slept the sun away. 
And wakM to moonlight and to play. 
All were abroad — the busiest hive 
On BELA'st hills is less alive 
When saffron beds are in full flower, 
Than look'd the valley at that hour. 
A thousand restless torches play'd 
Through every grove and island shade; 
a thousand sparkling lamps were set 
On every dome and minaret! 
And fields and pathways, far and near, 
Were lighted by a blaze so clear, 
That you could see, in wandering round 
The smallest rose-leaf on the ground. 
Yet did the maids and matrons leave 
Their veils at home, that brilliant eve ; 

\nd there were glancing eyes about, 

11 

* ** Gul sad berk, the Rose of a hundred leaves. I 
Relieve a particular species." — Ouseley, 
^ iJBemier, 

X A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or 
ji^emoirs of Jehanguire, where there is an account of 
;he beds of saffron flowers about Cashmere. 






232 LLALLA ROOKH. 

And cheeks, that would not dare shine oat 
In open day, but thought they might 
Look lovely then, because 'twas night ! 
And all were free, and wandering, 
And all exclaim'd to all they met 
That never did the summer bring 
So gay a Feast of Roses yet ; — 
The moon had never shed a light 

So clear as that which bless'd them there ; 
The roses ne'er shone half so bright, 

Nor they themselves look'd half so fair. 
And what a wilderness of flowers ! 
It seem'd as though from all the bowers 
And fairest fields of all the year, 
The mingled spoil were scattered here. 
The lake too like a garden breathes, 

With the rich buds that o'er it lie, — 
As if a shower of fairy wreaths 
Had fall'n upon it from the sky ! 
And then the sounds of joy — the beat 
Of labors and of dancing feet ; 
The minaret-cryer's chaunt of glee 
Sung from his lighted gallery,* 
And answer'd by a ziraleet 
From neighbouring Haram, wild and sweet :-^ 
The merry laughter, echoing 
From gardens, where the silken swing 
Wafts some delighted girl above 
The top leaves of the orange grove : 

* ** It is the custom among the women to employ the 
Maazeen to chaunt from the gallery of the nearest min- 
aret, which on that occasion is illuminated, and the 
woman assembled at the house respond at intervals 
with a ziraleet or joyous chorus."— jKw^sc^. 



i 



W'^'W!*- ■ v>'^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 233 

Or, from those infant groups at play 
Among the tents* that line the way, 
Flinging, unawM by slave or mother, 
Handsful of roses at each other ! — 

And the sounds from the lake — the low whisp'ring 
boats. 
As they shoot through the moonlight ;~the dip- 
ping of oars, 
A.nd the wild, airy warbling that every where 
floats, 
Through the groves, round the islands, as if all 
the shores 
Like those of Kathay utter'd music, and gave 
In answer in song to the kiss of each wave !t 
But the gentlest of all are those sounds, full of feel- 
ing* 
Chat soft from the lute of some lover are stealing,— 
Some lover, who knows all the heart-touching 

power 
)f a lute and a sigh in this magical hour. 
)h ! best of delights as it every where is, 
Vo be near the lov'd one, — what a rapture is hi.s 
^ho in moonlight and music thus sweetly may 
glide 

* At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we beheld an 
nfinite number of tents pitched, with such a crowd of 
nen, women, boys and girls, with music, dances, etc. 
itc. — Herbert. 

t An old commentator of the Chou-King says, the 
^tncients having remarked that a current of water made 
(ome of the stones near its banks send forth a sound, 
)hey detached some of them, and being charmed with 
;lie delightful sound they emitted, constructed King or 
ausical instruments of them, Grosier 



S34 LLALLA ROOKH. 

O'er the lake af Cashmere, with that one by h 

side! 
If woman can make the worst wilderness dear, 
Tliink, think what a Heaven she must make of 

Cashmere! 
So felt the magnificent san of Acbar,* 
When Irom power and pomp and the trophies of 

war 
He flew to that valley, forgetting them all 
With the light of the Haram his young Nourma- 

HAL. 

When free and uncrowned as'the conqueror rov'd 
By the banks of that lake, with his only belov'd, 
He saw in the wreaths she would playfully snatch 
From the hedges, a glory his crown could not 

match. 
And preferred in his heart the least ringlet that 

curl'd 
Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the 

world ! 



' 



I 



I 



There's a beauty, forever unchangingly bright 
Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer day's light 
Sliiningon, shining on, by no shadow made.tender 
Till love falls asleep in its sameness of splendour, 
This was not the beauty — oh ! nothing like this, 
riiatto young Nourmahal gave such magic oi 

bliss ; 

But that loveliness, ever in motion, which playg 
Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days, 
IVow here, and now there, giving wnrmtlias itflies 
From the lips to the cheeks, from the cheeks to the 

eyes, 

"" Jehanguire was the son of the Great Achar, 



w 



LLALLA ROOKH. Si3^. 

^ie\v melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, 
Like the glimpses a saint hath of Heav'n in his 

dreams ! 
iWhen pensive, it seemM as if that very grace, 
That charm of all others, was born with her face ; 
Ind when angry,— for ev'n in the tranquillest 

climes 
^ight breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes— 
Pile short passing anger but seemM to awaken 
^ew beauty like flowers that are sweetest when 

shaken, 
f tenderness touched her, the dark of her eye 
it once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, 
>om the depth of whose shadow, like holy reveal- 

ings 
'rom innermost shrines, came the light of her feel- 
ings! 
'hen her mirth— oh I 'twas sportive as ever took 
u wing 
'rom the heart with a burst, like a wild-bird in 

spring; 
llum'd by a wit that would fascinate sages, 
ret playful as Perisjust loosM from their cages.* 
Vhile her laugh, full of life, without any controul 
iut the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her 

soul ; 
!i.nd where it most sparkled no glance could dis- 
cover, 
1 lip, cheek or eyes, for she brighten'd all over,— 

* In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever 
te lormer took the latter prisoners, " they shut them 
,3 m iron cages, and hung them on the highest trees, 
•ere they were visited by their companions, who 
•ought them the choicest odows.'^-^mchardson. 



236 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Like any fair lake that tlie breeze is upon, 

When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the suii^ 

Such, such were the peerless enchantments that 

gave 
NouRMAHAL the proud lord of the East, for herl 

slave ; 
And though bright was his Harani, — a living par- 
terre 
Of the flow'rs*" of this planet— though treasures were 

there, 
For which Soliman's self might have giv'n all the 

store 
That the navy from Ophir e*er wing'd to his shore 
Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all. 
And the light of his Haram was young Nourjia • 
hal! 

But where is she now, this night of joy, 

When bliss is every hearths employ 1 — 

When all around her is so bright, 

So like the visions of a trance, 

That one might think, who came by chance 

Into the vale this happy night, 
He saw the city of Delight t 
In fairy-land, whose streets and towers 
Are made of gems and light and flowers! 
Where is the lov'd Sultana? where, 
When mirth brings out the young and fair. 
Does she, the fairest, hide her brow, 
In melancholy stillness now? 

* In the Malay language the same word signifies 
women and flowers. 

t The capital of Shadukiam, v. note, vol. i. p. 15.' 



;C 



LLALLA ROOKH. 237 

-ilas— how light a cause mtxy move 

Dissensions between hearts that love ! 

Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 

And sorrow but more closely tied ; 

That stood the storm, when waves were rough, 

Yet in a sunny hour fall off, 

Like ships that have gone down at sea, 

When heav'n was all tranquillity ! 

A something, light as air — a look, 

A word unkind, or wrongly taken— 
Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, 

A breath, a touch like this hath shaken, 
And ruder words will soon rush in 
To spread the breach that words begin; 
And eyes forget the gentle ray 
They wore in courtship's smiling day ; 
And voices lose the tone that shed 
A tenderness round ail they said ; 
Till fast declining one by one> 
The sweetnesses of love are gone, 
And hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
Like broken clouds, — or like tlie stream, 
That smiling left the mountain's brow, 

As though its waters ne'er could sever, 
Yet e'er it reach the plain below, 

Breaks into floods, that part forever. 

J )h you, that have the charge of love, 

Keep him in rosy bondage bound, 
As in the fields of bliss above 

fie sits, with flowrets fetter' d round ;* 

* See the representation of the Eastern Cupid pin. 
oned closely round with wreaths of flowers, in Pi 
carVs Ceremonis Religieuses. 
L 



338 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Loose .lot a tie that round iiim clifigs. 
Nor ever let liim use his wings ; 
For ev*n an hour, a minute's flight 
Will rob the plumes of half their iight> 
Like that celestial bird,— whose nest 

Is found beneath lar Eastern skies, — 
Whose wings, though radiant when at rest. 

Lose all their glory when he fliest \ 
Some difference, of this dangerous kind,— 
By which, though light, the links that bim': 
The fondest hearts may soon be riven , 
Some shadow in love's summer heaven. 
Which, though a fleecy speck at first, 
May yet in awful thunder burst; — 
Such cloud it is, that now hangs over 
The heart of the imperial lover, 
And far hath banish'd from his sight 
His NouRMAHAL, his Haram's light 1 

Hence is it, on this happy night, 

When pleasures through the fields and grove;^ 

Has let loose all her world of loves, 

And every heart has found its own,— 

He wanders, joyless and alone, 

And weary as the bird of Thrace, 

Whose pinion knows no resting-place.* 

t '* Among the birds of Tonquin is a species^of gold- 
iinch, which sings so melodiously that it is called Cc^ 
lestiai Bird. Its wings when it is perched, appear va- 
negated with beautiful colours, but when it flies the^ 
loose all their splendour. Gr osier. 

* *' As these birds on the Bosphorus are never 
known to rest, they are called by the french "lesames 
'^amnees. *' — Dalloway, 



LLALLA ROOKH. ^ 

In vain the io veliest cheeks and eyes 
This Eden of the earth supplies, 

Come crowding round—the cheeks are pale, 
The eyes are dim — though rich the spot 
With every flower this earth has got, 

Wiiat is it to the nightingale, 
If there his darling rose is not ?t 
In vain the Valley's smiling throng 
Worsliip him, as he moves along; 
He heeds them not — one smile of hers 
Is worth a world of worshippers, 
They but the star's adorers are. 
She is the Heav'n that lights the star ! 

Hence is it too that Nourmahal, 

Amid the luxuries of this hour, 
Far from the joyous festival, 

Sits in her own sequestered bower, 
With no one near, to soothe or aid, 
But that inspir'd and wond'rous maid. 
Namouna, the enchantress ,•— one, 
O'er whom his race the golden sun 
For unremember'd years has run, 
Yet never saw her blooming brow 
Younger or fairer than 'tis now. 
Nay, rather, as thewestwind's sigh 
Freshens the flower it passes by, 
Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er, 

t "You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant 
herbs and flowers before the nightingale, yet he wish- 
. es not in his constant heart, for more thau the sweet 
breath of his beloved rose."--«Jaww'. 



f' 



240 LLALLA ROOKH 

To leave her lovelier than before. 
Yet on her smiles a sadness hung, 
And when, as oft, she spoke or sung 
Of other worlds, there came a light 
From her dark eyes so strangely bright, 
That all believ'd nor man nor earth 
Were conscious of Namouna's birth ! 
All spells and talismans she knew, 

From the great Mantra, which around 
The air's sublinier spirits drew. 

To the gold gems of Afric, bound 
Upon the wandering Arab's arm. 
To keep liini from the Siltim's harm. 
And she had pledg'd her powerful art, 
Pledg'd it with all the Zealand heart 
Of one who knew, though high her sphere. 
What 'twas to lose a love so dear, 
To find some spell that should recall 
Her Selim's smile to Nourmahal. 

'Twas midnight— through the lattice, wreath'd 
With woodbine, many a perfume breath'd 
From plants that wake when others sleep, 
From timid jasmine buds, that keep 
' Their odour to themselves all day, 
But when the sun-light dies away, 
Let the delicious secret out 
To every breeze that roams about ; — 
When thus Namouna : — " 'Tis the hour 

• That scatters spells on herb and flower, 
' And garlands might be gather'd now, 

• That, twin'd around the eleeper's brow, 
Would make him dream of such delightd. 






LLALLA ROOKH. 241 

^' Such miracles and dazzling sights, 

** As Genii of the sun behold, 

'* At evening from their tents of gold 

" Upon the horizon — where they play 

*' Till twilight corned, and ray by ray, 

" Their sunny mansions melt away ! 

'* Now. too, a chaplet might be wreath'd 

** Of buds o*er which the moon has breath'd, 

•* Which worn by her, whose love has stray'd, 

*' Might bring some Peri from the skies, 
**Some sprite, whose very soul is made 

" Of flowrets* breaths and lovers* sighs, 
" And who might tell " 

" For me, for me/' 
Cried Nourmahal impatiently, — 
*^Oh ! twine that wreath for me to-night." 
Then rapidly, with foot as light 
As the young musk -roe's, out she flew 
To cull each shining leaf that grew 
Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams^ 
For this enchanted wreath of dreams. 
Anemones and Seas of Gold, 

And new-blown lilies of the river, 
And those sweet flowrets, that unfold 

Their buds on Camedeva's quiver ; 
The tube-rose, with her silvery light. 

That in the gardens of Malay 
Is caird ttie Mistress of the Night, 
So like a bride, scented and bright, 

She comes out when the sun's away. — 
Amaranths, such as crown the maids 
That wander through Zamara's shades ;--- 
And the white moon-flower, as it shows 



242 LLALLA ROOKH. 

On Serendib's high crags to those 
Who near the isle at evening sail. 
Scenting her clove-trees in the gale;*«<- 
In short, allflowrets and all plants. 

From the divine Amrita tree, 
That blesses heaven's inhabitants 

With (rujts of immortality, 
Down to the basil tufr, that waves 
Its fragrant blossom over graves, 

And to the humble rosemary, 
Wliose sweets so thanklessly are shed 
To scent the desert — and the dead,— 
All is that garden bloom, and all 
Are gathered by young Nourmahal, 
Who heaps her baskets with the flowers 

And leaves, till they can hold no more, 
Then to N amouna flies, and showers 

Upon her lap the shining store. 

With what delight th' enchantress views 

So many buds, bath'd with the dews 

And beams of that bless'd hour ! — .ler glance 

Spoke something, past all mortal pleasures^ 
As, in a kind of holy trance. 

She hun? above those fragrant treasures, 
Bending to drink their balmy airs. 
As if she mixM her soul with theirs, 
And '*was, indeed, the perfume shed 
From flowers and sceuied flame that fed 
Her charmed life — for none had e'er 
Beheld her taste of mortal fare, 
Nor ever in aught earthly dip, 
But the morn's dew, her roseate lip. 



LLALLA ROOKH. im 

i? ill'd witU the cool, inspiring: smell, 
Th' enchantress now begins her spell, 
Thus singing, as she winds and weaves 
In mystic form the glittering leaves :•— 



I know where the winged visions dwell 

That around the night-bed play ; 
I know each herb and flowret's bell, 
Where they hido their wings by day. 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade 

The image of love, that nightly flies 

To visit the bashful maid. 
Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs 

Its soul, like her, in .the shade. 
The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour, 

That alights on misery's brow. 
Springs out of the silvery almond-flower. 

That blooms on a 'eafless bough, 
Then hapten we, n^aid, 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and floVers will fade. 

The visions that oft to worldly eyes 

The glitter of mines unfold, 
Inhabit the mountain-herb, that dies 

The tooth of the fawn like <?old. 
The phantom shapes — iy}\ touch not them- 

That appal the murderer's sight, 



244 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Lui k in the fleshly mandrake's stem, 
That shrieks, when torn at night 1 
Then hasten we, maid, 
To twine our braid. 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 

The dream af the injur'd, patient mind, 

That smiles at the wrans^s of men, 
Is found in the bruisM and wounded rind 
Of the cinnamon, sweetest then ! 
Then hasten we, maid. 
To twine our braid, 
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade 



No sooner was the flowery crown 

Plac'd on her head, than sleep came down. 

Gently as nights of summer fall. 

Upon the lids of Nourmahal , — 

And, suddenly, a tuneful breeze, 

As full of small, rich harmonies, 

As ever wind, that o'er the tents 

Of Azab blew, was full of scents, 

Steals on her ear and floats and swells, 

Like the first air of morning creeping 
Into those wreathy, Red-Sea shells, 

Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping ; 
And now a spirit, formed, 'twould seem, 

Of music and of light, so fair> 
So brilliantly his features beam, 

And such a sound is in the air 
Of sweetness, when he waves his wings, 
Hovers around her, and thus sings :— 



'^•^Tr^ii^-- 



LLALLA ROOKH, 

From Chindara's warbling fount I come, 

CalPd by that moonlight garland's spell ; 
From Chindara's fount, my fairy hume, 

Where in music, morn and night, I dwell. 
Where lutes in the air are heard about, 

And voices are singing the whole day long, 
And every sigh the heart breathes out 
Is turn'd, as it leaves the lips, to song ! 
Hither 1 come 
From my fairy home, 
And if there's a magic in music's strain, 
1 swear by the breath 
Of the moonlight wreathj 
Thy lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 

For mine is the lay that lightly floats, 
And mine are murmuring, dying notes. 
That fall as soft as snow on the sea, 
And melt in ihe heart as instantly ! 
And the passionate strain that, deeply going,. 

Refines the bosom it trembles through, 
As the musk-wind, over the water blowing. 

Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too ! 

Mine is the chsurm, whose mystic sway 
The spirits of past delight obey ; — 
Let but the tuneful talisman sound, 
And they come, like genii, hovering round» 
And mine is the gentle song, that bears 

From soul to soul, the wishes of love, 
As a bird, that wafts through genial airs 

The cinnamon seed from grove to grove. 
L2 



24G LLALLA ROOKH 

'Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure 

The past, the present, and future of pleasure j 

When memory links the tone that is gone 

With the blissful tone that's still in the ear J 
And hope from a heavenly note flies on, 

To a note more heavenly still that is near! 

riie warrior's heart, whea touchMby me, 
Can as downy soft and as yielding be, 
As his own white plume, that high amid death 
Through the field has shone— yet moves witli 

breath; 
And oh, how the eyes of beauty glisten. 

When music has reached ber inward soul, 
Xjike the silent siars, that wink and listen 
While heav'n's eternal melodies roil! 
So hither I come, 
From my fairy home, 
\nd if thjsre's a magic in music's strain, 
I swear by the breath 
Of that moonlight Avreath, 
T^y lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 



'Tis dawn — at least that earlier dawn, 
Whose glimpses are again withdrawn, 
As if the morn had wak'd, and then 
Shut close her lids of light again. 
And NouRMAHAL is up, and trying 

The wonders of her lute, whose strings- 
Oh bliss ! — now murmur like the sighing 

From that ambrosial ?pirit's'Svings ! 



Tr^yv'W-:^':- 



LLALLA ROOKH. ^247 

And then, her voice— 'tis more thaD human 

Never, till now, had it been given 
To hps of any mortal woman 

To Mtter notes so fresh from heaven ; 
Sweet as the breath of angel sighs, 

When angel sighs We most divine. — 
" Oh ! let it last till night,'^ she cries, 
*' And he i« more than ever mine." 
And hourly she renews the lay, 

So fearful lest its heavenly sweetness 
Should, erft the evening, fade away,--r 

For things so heavenly have such fleetness:! 
But, far from fading, it but grows 
Richer, diviner as it flows ; 
Till rapt she dwells on every string, 

And pourH again each sound along, 
Like echo, lost and languishing 

In love with her own wondnms song- 
That evening, (misting that his soul 

Might be from haunting love releasVl 
By mirth, by music, and the bowl) 
Th' imperial Selim held a feast 
In his magnificent 8halimar ; 
In whose saloons, when the first star 
Of evening o'er the waters trembled, 
The Valley's loveliest all assembled ,* 
All the bright creatures that, like dreamt-, 
Glide through its foliage, and drink beams 
Of beauty from its founts and streams, 
And all those wandering minstrel-aiaids. 
Who leave — how can they leave ?--'the shade^e- 
Of that dear Valley, and are found 
Singing in gardens of the South 



:^48 LLALLA ROOKH. 

Those songs, that ne'er so sweetly sound 

As from a young Cashmerian's mouth; 

There too the haram's inmates smile ; — 

Maids from the West, with sun-brigiit hair 
And from the garden of the JNile, 

Delicate as the roses there ; 
Daughters of Love from Cyprus* rocks, 
With Paphian diamonds in their locks ;— 
Light Peri forms, sucli as there are 
On the gold meads of Candahar ; 
And they, before whose sleepy eyes, 
' In their own bright Kathaian bowers, 

'^ Sparkle such rainbow butterflies, 

'That they might fancy the rich flowej^, 
^ That round them in the sun lay sighing, 

^ Had been by magic all set flying ! 

Every thing young, every thing fair 
From East and West is blushing therCf 
i Except— except— oh Nourmahal ! 

Thou loveliest, dearest of them all, 
The one, whose smile shone out alone, 
\ Amidst a world the only one ! 

F Whose light, among so many lights, 

r Was like that star, on starry nights, 

1 The seaman singles from the sky, 

B To steer his bark for ever by ! 

L Thou wert not there — so Selim thought, 

r And every thing seem'd drear without thee ; 

\! But ah ! thou wert, thou wert — and brought 

•• Thy charm of song all fresh about thee. 

' Mingling unnoticM with a band 

•' Of lutanists from many a land, 

' ' A nd veird by such a mask as shades 



LLALLA ROOKH. 249 

The features of young Arab maids^ — 
A mask that leaves but one eye free, 
To do its best in witehery, — 
She rovM, with beating heart, around, 

And waited, trembling, for the minute, 
When she might try if stiW the sound 

Of her lov'd lute had magic in it. 

The board was spread with fruits and wine ; 
With grapes of gold, like those that shine 
On Casbin's hills ; — pomegranates full 

Of melting sweetness, and the pears 
And sunniest apples that Caubul 

In all its thousand gardens bears. 

Plantains, the golden and the green, 
Malaya's nectar'd mangusteen ; 
Prunes of Boeara, and sweet nuts 

From the far groves of Sam arc and, 
And Basra dates, and apricots, 

Seed of the sun, from Iran's land ;— 
With rich conserve of Visna cherries. 
Of Orange flowers, and of those berries 
That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles 
Feed on in Erac's rocky deils. 
All these in richest vases smile, 

In baskets of pure scandal-wood, 
And urns of porcelain from that isle ; 

Sunk underneath the Indian flood, 
Whence oft the lucky diver brings 
Vases to grace the halls of kings. 
Wines too, of every clime and hue, 
Around their liquid lustre threw; 
Amber RosoUi, the bright dew 



250 JLMLLA ROOKH. 

From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing. 
And Sbiraz wine, that richly ran 

Asif that jewel, large and rare. 
The ruby, for which Cublai-Chaii 
Offer'd a city^s wealth, was blushing 

Melted within the goblets there ! 

And amply Selim quaffs of each. 
And spenaa resolv'd the floods shall reach 
His inward heart — shedding around 
A genial deluge, as tliey run, 

( That soon shall leav? no spot undrown'd,. 

1 For Love to rest his wings upon. 

" He little knew how well the boy 

Can float upon a gi)blet's streams, 

Lighting them with his smile of joy;— 
As bards '':ive seen him, in their dreami»> 

Down the blue GfUigets laughing glide 
Upon a ro^y lotus wreath, 

Catching new lustre from the tide 
That with his ima!j;e shone beneath, 
W 

Pj But what are cups, without the aid 

p, Of song to speed them as they flow ? 

T] And see — a lovely Georgian maid, 

B, With all the bloom, the fresheuM glow 

Lj Of her own country maidensMooks, 

'JP( When warm they rise from Teflis' brooko ► 

\V And with an eye, whose restless ray, 

««»; Full, floating, dark — t)h he, who knows 

c<^ His heart is weak, of heav'n should pray 

• t T To guard him from such eyes as those ! — 

With a voluptuous wildness fling? 



LLALLA ROOKH. 

iier snowy lutiid across the strings 
Of a syrlnda, and thus sings :— 



Come hither, come hither — by night and by day, 
We linger in pleasures that never are gone; 

Like the waves of the summer, as one dies away 
Another as sweet and as shining comes on. 

\m\ the Love thaa is o'er, in expiring gives birth 
To a new one as warm, as uuequall'd in bliss; 

And oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 

Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigh 
As the flower of the Amra just op'd by a bee ; 

And precious their tears as that rain from the sky, 
Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea. 

Oh think what the kiss and the srnile must be worth, 
When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss ; 

\nd own if there be an Elysium on earth, 
It is this, it is this. 

ere sparkles tiie nectar that hallowed by love, 
Could draw down those angels of old from Iheir 
sphere, 
Who for wine ofthis earth left the fountains above, 
And forgot heaven's stars for the eyes we have 
here. 
And, blessM with the odour our goblets give forth, 
What Spirit the eweets of his Eden would miss ^ 
For ah ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
Tt y fhi?, it i- fhl^.. 



25^ LLALLA ROOKH. 

The Georgian's song was scarcely mote, 

When the same measure, sound for sound; 
Was caught up by another lute, 

And so divinely breath'd around, 
That all stood hush'd and wondering^ 
And turn'd and lookM into the air, 
^ As if they thought to see the wing 

Of Israfil, the angel, there : — 
*] So powerfully on every soul 

That new, enchanted measure stole. 
I While now a voice, sweet as the note 

T Of the charm'd lute, was heard to float 

A Along its chords, and so entwine 

P Its sound with theirs, that none knew whether 

O The voice or lute was most divine, 

\} So wond'rously they went together : 

T 

H 

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has 
told, 
\V When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, 

Ff With heart never changing and brow never cold, 

Pr Love on through all ills, and love on till they die. 

TJ One hour of a passion so sacred is worth 

Bu Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; 

Le And oh ! if there be an elysium on earth, 

I'q It is this, it is this. 

Wl __ 

• A *Twas not the air, 'twas not the words.. 

' T But that deep magic in the chords 

'* W And in the lips, that gave such power 

As music knew not till that hour. 



;fpn,rRpfw?^rw/^'' ;|PW - ^ ,m 



LLALLA ROOKH. 253 

At once a hundred voices said, 
** It is the mask'd Arabian maid !" 
While Selim, who had felt the strain 
Deepest of any, and had lain 
Some minutes wrapt, as in a trance, 

After the fairy sounds were o'er, 
Too inly touch'd for utterance, 

Now motionM with his hand for more :— 



Fiy to the desert, fly with me, 

Our Arab tents are rude for thee ; 

But oh ! the choice what heart can doubt, 

Of tents with love, or thrones without ? 

Our rocks are rough, but smiling there 
Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, 
Lonely and sweet, nor lovM the less 
For flowering in a wilderness. 

Our sands are bare, but down their slope 
The silvery footed antelope 
As gracefiilly and gaily springs 
As o'er the marble courts of kings. 

Then come — thy Arab maid will be 
The lov'd and lone acacia-tree, 
The antelope, whose feet shall bless 
With their light sound thy loneliness. 

Oh ! there are looks and tones that dart 
An instant sunshine through the heart,— 
As if the soul that minute caught 
Some treasure it through hfe had sought ; 



J54 LLALLA ROOKH- 

As if the very lips and eyes 
Fredestio'd to have all our sighs, 
Ayd n^'ver be forgot again, 
Sparkled anu spoke before us then; 

So came thy every o^lance and tone, 
When first on me they breathM and shone ; 
^' New, as if brought from other spheres. 

Yet welcome as if lov'd for years ! 

Then fly with me,— if thou hast known 
C IVo other flame, nor falsely thrown 

T A gem away, that (hou hadst sworn 

A Should ever in thy heart be worn. 

P 
^ Come, if the love thou hast for me 

„ Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, 

M Fresh as ihe fountain under ground 

rj When first 'lis by the lapwing found 

But if for me thou dost forsake 
Some other maid, and rudely break 
\V Her worshipp'd imat^e from iiy base, 

Fri To give to me the ruin'd place ; — 

Fn 

Y], Then fare thee well — I'd rather make 

B„ My bower upon some icy lake 

l^jjj When thawing suns begin to shine, 

'/Y> Than trust to love so false as thine '. 

Wh 

'T 

''A There was a pathos in this lay, 

* T! That, ev'n without enchantment's an. 

' W Would mptantly nave found its way 

Deep into Skldi's burning heart ; 



I \"T?'y "IW 



LLALLA KOOKU. 



But hre'Aih'iDfij as it did, a tone 
To earthly lutes and lips unknown ; 
With every chord fre>h from the touch 
Of QiUsic's spirit, — 'twas too much ! 
Starting, he dasird away the cup, 

Which, aJI the time of this sweet aii\ 
His hand had held, untasted, up, 

A> if 'twas held by magic there, — 
And naming her, so long uunam'd, 
9o long unseen, wildly exclaimed, 

*»Oh NoURMAHAL! ohNoURMAHAL! 

'* Hadst thou but sung this witching strait;. 
**I could forget — forgive thee all, 
** And never leave those eyes again. 

The mask is off— the charm is wrought^ 
And Skum to his heart has caught, 
In hUi-ihes, more than ever brij^ht, 
His NouRMAHAL, liis haram's light! 
And well do vanish'd frowns enhance 
The charm of every brightenM plance ; 
And dearer seems each dawning smile 
For having lost its lighr awhile ; 
And) happier now for all her sighs, 

Ao on his arm her head re|X)ses, 
>lie whispers hiro, with laughing eye^, 

** Remember, love, the Feast of Roses " 



256 LLALLA ROOKII. 

Fadladeen, at the conclusion of this light rhap« 
sody, took occasion to sum up his opinion oi the 
young Cashmerian*s poeiry,— of which, he trusted, 
i they had that evening heard the last. Having re- 

1 capitulated the epithets, "frivolous," — "inharmo- 

nious," — "nonsensical,'' heproceseded to say that, 
' viewing it in the mos favourable light, it resembled 

^» one of those Maldivian boats, to which the princess 

/, had alluded in the relati-iU of her dream, — a slight, 

gilded thing, sent adrift without rudder or ballast, 
„ and with nothing but vapid sweets and faded flow- 

^ ers on board. The profusion, indeed, of flowers 

and birds, which this poet had r^^ad; on all occa- 
U sions, — not to mention dews, «ems, &c. — was a 

<^^ most oppressive kind of opulence to his hearers; 

, and had the unlucky ftffect of giving to his style all 

^*' the glitter of the flower-garden without its method, 

PI and all the flutter of the aviary vithoui its song. 

Oi In addition to this, he chose his subjects badly, and 

^Y was always most inspired by the worst parts of 

rj, them. The charms of paganism, the merits of re- 

^ ^ bellion, — these were the themes honoured with his 

H( particular enthusiasm; and, in the poem just reci- 

ted, one of his most palatable passages was in praise 
, of that beverage of the unfaithful, wine; "being, 

perhaps," said he, relaxing into a smile, as con* 
Wi scions of his own character in the Haram on this 

Frr point, " one of those bards, whose fancy owes all 

p^^ Its illumination to the grape, like that painted porce- 

rr-,, lain, so curious and so rare, whose images are ont}* 

^ '*' visible when liquor is poured into it," Upon the 

But whole it was his opinion, from the specimens which 

Let they had heard, and which, he begged to say, were 

'1^^ ^ the most tiresome part of the journey, that— what* 

. ever other merits this well-dressed younjr gentleman 

^" migh possess — poetry was by no means his proper 

'•TJ avocation: "and indeed," concluded the critic, 

'Ai **from his fondness for flowers and for birds, I 

(fpi would venture to suggest that a florist or a bird- 

^. ' catcher is a much more suitable calling for him 

^ than a poet " 

They had now begun to ascend those barren 



w^ 



ipiilHi|i| Hj||i|)i "• 'T-"»^ i^ 



LLALLA ROOKH. 25/ 

^oantaios, which separate Cashmere from the rest 
s of India ; and, as the heights were intolerable, and 
, the time of their encampments limited to the few 
- hours necessary for refreshment and repose, there 
= was an end to all their delightful evenings, and 
Llalla Rookh saw no more of Feramorz. She 
I now felt that her short dream of happiness was 
i over, and that she had nothing but the recollection 
of its few blissful hours, like the one draught of 
sweet water that serves the camel across the wil- 
derness, to be her heart's refreshment during the 
dreary waste of life that was before her. The blight 
that had fallen upon her spirits soon found its way 
to her cheek, and her ladies saw with regret — 
though not without some suspicion of the cause- 
that the beauty of their mistress, of which they vvere 
almost as proud as of tbeir own, was fast vanishing 
away at the very moment of all when she had most 
need of it. What must the king of Bucharia feel, 
when, instead of the lively and beautiful Llalla 
KoosH, whom the poets of Delhi had described as 
more perfect than the divinest images in the house 
of Azor, be should receive a pale and inanimate 
Tictim, upon whose cheek neither health nor plea- 
sure bloomed, and from whose eyes Love had fled, 
>^to hide himself in her heart ! 

If any thing could have charmed aviray the melan- 
choly of her spirits, it would have been the fresh 
airs and enchanting scenery of that valley, which 
the Persians so justly called the Unequalled. But 
neither the coolness of its atmosphere, so luxuri- 
ous after toiling up those bare and burning moun- 
tains—neither the splendour of the minarets and 
pagodas,that shone out from the depth of its woods, 
nor the grottos, hermitages, and miraculous foun- 
tains, which make every spot of that region holy 
ground; — neither the countless water-falls, that 
rush into the valley from all those high and roman- 
tic mountains that encircle it, nor the fair city on 
the lake, whose houses, roofed with flowers, ap- 
peared at a distance like one vast variegated par- 
terre ; — not all these wonders and glories of the 



258 LLALLA ROOKH. 

most lovely country under the sun could steal her 
heart for a minute from those sad thoughts, which 
but darkened and grew bitter every step she ad- 
vanced. 

The gay pomps and processions that met hei 
upon her entrance into the valley, and the magnifi- 
cence with which the roads all along were decorat- 
ed, did honour to tiie taste and galantry of the 
youn^ king. It was night when they approached 
the city, and for the last two miles, they had passed 
under arches, thrown h cm hedge to hedge, festoon- 
ed with only those rarest roses from which the 
Attar GuK more precious than gold, is distilled, am 
illuminated in rich and faiicifulforms with lanterns 
of the tii pie-coloured tortoise-shell of Pegu. 

These arches and fire- works delighted the La- 
dies of the Princess exceedingly; and, with theii 
usual good logic, they deduced from his taste foj 
illuminations, that theKingof Bucharia would mak( 
the most exemplary husband imaginable. Nor, 
indeed, could Llalla Rookh herself help feeling 
the kindness and splendour with which the young 
bridegroom welcomed her;— but she also felt 
how painful is the gratitude, which kindness from 
those we cannot love excites; and that their best 
blandishments come over the heart with all that 
<;hilling and deadly sweetness, which we can fan- 
cy in the cold, odoriferous wind that is to blow over 
this earth inilie last days. 

The marriage was fixed for the morning after hei 
arrival, when she was, for the first time, to be pre- 
sented to the monarch in that Imperial Palace be- 
yond the lake, called the Shalimar. Though a 
night of more wakeful and anxious thought had 
never been passed in the happy valley before, yetp 
when she rose in the morning and her ladies came 
round her, to assist in the adjustment of the bridal 
ornaments, they thought they had never seen her 
look half so beautiful. What she had lost of the 
bloom and radiancy of her charms was more thap 
made up by that intellectual expression, that sor.^ 
^n the eyes which is worth all the rest of loTeliaese 






LLALLA ROOKH. 259 

When they had tinged her fingers with the Henna 
leaf, and placed upon her brow a small coroiiet of 
jewels, of the shape worn by the ancient Queens of 
Bucharia, they flung over her head the rose-colour- 
,ed bridal veil, and she proceeded to the barge that 
was to convey her across the lake ;— first kissing, 
with a mournful look, the little amulet of cornelian 
which her father had hung about her neck at part- 

The morning was as fair as the maid upon whose 
nuptials it rose, and the shining lake, all covered 
with boats, the minstrels playing upon the shores 
of ihe iiilands, and the crowded summer houses on 
the green hills around, with shawls and banners 
waving from their roofs, presented such a picture 
of animated rejoicing, as only she, who was the 
object of it all, did not feel with transport. To 
Llalla Rookh alone ii was a melancholy pageant; 
nor could she have ever borne to look upon the 
scene, were it not for a hope that, among the 
crowds around, she might once more perhaps catch 
a glimpse of Feramorz. So much was her imagi- 
nation haunted by this thought, that there was 
.-carcelv an islet or boat she passed, at which her 
heart did not flutter with a momentary fancy that 
he was there. Happy, in her eyes, the humblest 
slave upon whom the light of his dear looks fell;— 
In the barge immediately after the Princess was 
Fadladeen, with his silken curtains thrown widely 
apart, that all might have the benefit of his august 
presence, and with his head full of the speech he 
was to deliver to the King, "concerning Feramorz 
and literature, andthe Chabuk, as connected there* 
with." 

They had now entered the canal which leads 
from the lake to the splendid domes and saloons 
of the Shalimar, and glided on through gardens 
ascendin^from each bank, full of flowering shrubs 
that made the air all perfume ; while from the 
middle of the canal rose jets of water, smooth and 
unbroken, to such a dazzling height, that they 
)tftood like pillars of diamond in the sunshine. Af- 
ter sailing under the arches of various saloons, 



260 LLALLA ROOKH. 

they at length arrived at the last and most maguifi' 
cent, (vhere the monarch awaited the coming of 
his bride ; and such was the agitation of her heart 
and frame, that it was with difficulty she walked up 
the marble steps, which were covered with cloth df 
gold for her ascent from the barge. At the end of 
the hall stood two thrones, as precious as the Ce- 
rulean Throne of Koolburga, on one of which sat 
Aliris, the youthful King of Bucharia, and on Ihe 
other was, in a few minutes, to be placed the most 
beautiful Princess in the world. — Immediately up- 
on the entrance of Llalla Rookh into the saloon 
the monarch descended from his throne to meet her ; 
but scarcely had he time to take her hand in his, 
when she screamed with surprise and fainted at his 
feet. It was Feramorz himself that stood before 
her !— Feramorz was, himself, the sovereign of 
Bucharia, who in this disguise had accompanied 
his young bride from Delhi, and, having won her 
love as an humble minstrel, now ampiy deserved 
to enjoy it as a King. 

' The consternation of Fadladeen at this discove- 
ry was, for the moment, almost pitiable. But 
change of opinion is a resource too convenient in 
courts for this experienced courtier not to have 
learned to avail himself of it. His criticisms were all, 
of course recanted instantly; he was seized with an 
admiration of the King's verses, as unbounded, as, 
lie begged him to believe, it was disinterested ; and 
the following week saw him in possession of an ad- 
ditional place, swearing by all the Saints of Islam 
that never had there existed so great a poet as the 
Monarch, Aliris, and ready to prescribe his favour- 
ite regimen of the Chabuk for every man, woman, 
and child that dared to think otherwise. 

Of the happiness of the King and Queen of Bu- 
charia, after such a beginning there can be but little 
doubt ; and, among the lesser symptoms, it is record- 
ed of Llalla Rookh, that, io the day of her death, 
in memory of their delightful journey,she never call- 
-^'^I the King by any other name than Feramorz. 



';«^?:^f^*v 






NOTES. 



Page 21. 

; These particulars of the visit of the King of Bu 
charia to Aurungzebe are found in Dow* s history iTf 
Hindostariy vol. iii. p. 392. 

Page 22. 
Leila. 
Tiie mistress of Mejnoun, upon whose story so 
many romances,in all the languages of the East,are 
founded. 

Page 22. 
Shirine. 
For tlie loves of this celebrated beauty with Khoi? 
rou and with Ferhad, v. D^ Herbelot^ Gibbon^ Ori- 
ental Collections, etc. 

Page 22. 

Dewilde. 
"The history ofthelovesof Dewilde and Cliizer, 
the son of the Emperor Alia, is written in an elegant 
noem, by the noble Chusero," — Ferishta. 

Page 22. 
Those insignia of the Emperor's favour, etc. 
' One mark of honour or knighthood bestowed 
the Emperor, is the permission to wear a sniali 
Ule drum, at the bows of their saddles, which al 
t was invented for the training of hawks, and to 
1 them to the lure, and is worn in the field by all 
)r(smen to that end." — Fryer\'i Travp I^. 
M 



i 



262 NOTES, 

''Those on whom the king has conferred the pri 
vilege must wear an ornament of jewels on the righi 
side of the turban, surmounted by a liigh plume o: 
the feathers of a kind of egret. This bird is found 
only in Cashmere, and the feathers are carefully gal- 
lected for the King, who bestows them on his no- 
bles." Elphinestoiie' s Account of Caubul. 

Page 22. 
Khedar Khan, etc. 
" Khedar Khan, theKhakan, or King of Turques- 
(an beyond the Gihon (at the end of the eleventh 
century) whenever he appeared abroad was preced- 
ed by seven hundred horsemen with silver battle- 
axes, and was followed by an equal number bearing 
maces of gold. He was a great patron of poetry, 
and it was he who used to preside at public exer- 
cises of genius, with four basins of gold and silver 
by him to distribute among the poets who excelled.'' 
— 7?tc/zara'50w's Dissertation prefixed to his Diction- 
ary. 

Page 23. 

The gilt pine-apples, etc. 

" The kubdeh, a large golden knob, generally in 

the shape of a pine-apple, on the top ofthe canopy 

over the litter or palanquin.*' — Scott^s notes on the 

Bahaidanush. 

Page 23. 

The rose-coloured veils ofthe Princess's litter. 

fn the poem of Zohair, in the Moallakat, there is 
t)ie following lively description of " a company of 
maidens seated on camels.'^ 

"They are mounted in carriages covered with 
costly awnings, and with rose-coloured veils, the lin- 
ings" of which have the hue of crimson Andem- 
wood. 

'•When they ascend from the bosom ofthe vale, 
•hey sit forward on the saddle-cloths, with every 
;nark of voluptuous gaiety. 






NOTES. 263 

'* Now when they have reached the brink of yon 
blue globing rivulet, they fix the poles of their tents 
like the Arab with a settled mansion." 

Page 23. 
A young female slave sat fanning her, etc. 
See Beimier^s description of the attendants oh 
Eauchanara-Begum in her progress to Cashmere* 

Page 23. 
Religion, of which Aurungzebe was a munificent 
protector. 
This hypocritical Emperor would have made a 
worthy associate of certain Holy Leagues. — " He 
held the cloak of religion (savs Dow) between his 
actions and the vulgar; and impiously thanked the 
Divinity for a success which he owed to his own 
wickedness. When he was murdering and perse- 
cuting his brothers and their families, he was build- 
ing a magnificent mosque at Delhi, as an offering 
to God for his assistance to him in the civil wars* 
He acted as high-priest at the consecration of this 
temple, and made a practise of attending divine ser- 
vice there, in the humble dress ofa Fakeer, Bui 
when he lifted one hand to the Divinity, he, with 
the other, signed warrants for the assassination of 
his relations." — History of Indostan^ vol. iii.p. 335. 
See also the curious letter of Aurungzebe, given in 
the Oriental Collections ^ vol. i. p. 320. 

Page 23. 
The diamond eyes of the idol, etc. 
" The Idol at Jaghernaut has two fine diamonds 
for eyes. No goldsmith is suffered to enter the Pa- 
goda, one having stole one of these eyes, being lock- 
ed up all night with the Idol." — Tavernier. 
Page 24. 
Gardens of Shalimar* 
See a description of these royal Gardens in " An 
A'ccount of the present State of Delhi, by Lieut. Wl. 
Franklin. — Asiat. Research, vol. iv, p. 417. 



264 NOTES. 

Page 24. 
Lake of Pearl. ^ 

** In the neighborhood is Notte Gill, or the Lake 
of Pearl, which receives this name from its pelucid 
water " — PennanVs Hindostan. 

" Nasir Jung, encamped in the vicinity of the 
Lake of Tonoon, amused himself with sailing on 
that clear and beautiful water, and gave it the fan- 
ciful name of Motee Talab, * the Lake of Pearls' 
which it still retains." — Wilke^s South of India. 

Page 24. 
Described by one from the Isles of the West, etc. 
Sir Thomas Roe, Ambassador from James I. to 
Jehanguire. 

Page 24. 
Loves of Wamak and Ezra. 
*' The romance Wemakweazra, written in Per- 
sian verse, which contains the loves of Wamak and 
Ezra, two celebrated lovers who lived before the 
time of Mahomet." — Note on the Oriental T'ales. 

Page 24. 
Of the fair-haired Zal, and his mistress Rodahver. 
Their amour is recounted in the Shah-Nameh of 
1 'erdousi ; and there is much beauty in the passage 
which describes the slaves of Rodahver, sitting on 
the river, and throwing flowers into the stream, in 
order to draw the attention of the young Hero who 
IS encamped on the opposite side. — v. Champion^^ 
Translation, 

Page 24. 

The combat of Rustam with the terrible whit 
Daemon. 

Rustam is the Hercules of the Persians. Fot 
the particulars of his victory over the Sepeed Deeve, 
or While Demon, v. Oriental Collections^ vol. ii. p. 
45. Near the city of Shirauz is an immense qua- 
'h'angular monument in commemoration of this com- 



NOTES. 265 

bat called the Kelaat-i-Deev Sepeed, or Castle of 
the White Giant, which Father Angelo, in his Ga- 
zophylacium Persicum, p. 127, declares to have 
been the most memorable monument of antiquity 
which he had seen in Persia. — Ouseley^s Persian 
Miscellanies. 

Page 25. 
Their golden anklets. 

*'The women of the Idol, or dancing girls of the 
Pagoda, have little golden bells fastened to their 
feet, the soft harmonious tinkling of which vibrates 
in unison with the exquisite melody of their voices." 
— Maurice's Indian antiquities. 

"The Arabian courtezans, like the Indian wo- 
men, have little golden bells fastened round their 
legs, neck and elbows, to the sound of which they 
dance before the King. The Arabian princesses 
wear golden rings on their fingers, to which little 
bells are suspended, as in the flowering tresses ol 
their hair, that their superior rank may be known, 
and thev themselves receive in passing, the homage 
due to them." — v. CalmeVs Dictionary, art. Bells. 

Page 25. 

That delicious opium, etc. 

*' Abou-Tige, ville de la Thebaide, ou il croit beau- 

coup de pavot noir, dont se fait le meilleur opium." 

—D'Herbelot, 

Page 25. 
That idol of women, Crishna. 
" He and the three Ramas are described as youths 
of perfect beauty; and the Princesses of Hindostan 
were all passionately in love with Crishna, who 
continues to this hour the darling God of the Indian 
women." — Sir W, Jones, on the Gods of Greece, 
Italy and India. 

Page 25. 
The shawl-goat of Tibet. 
See Turner^ s Embassy foi a description of this 
animal, " the most beautiful among the whole tribe 



1 



fiS6 NOTES. 

of goats." The material for the shawls (which 
carried to Cashmere) is found next the skin. 

Page 26. 
The veiled Prophet of Khorassan. 
For the real history of this impostor, whose ori-" 
ginal name wasHaken ben Haschem, and who was 
called Mocanna from the veil of silver gauze (or, as 
others say, golden) which he always wore, v. D' 
Herbelot. 

Page 26. 
Flowrets and fruits blush over every stream. 
" The fruits of Meru are finer than those of any 
other place ; and one cannot see in any other city 
such palaces, with groves, and streams, and gar- 
dens." Ebn HaukahVs geography. 

Page 26. 

For, far lees luminous, his votaries said, 
Were ev'n the gleams, miraculously shed 
0*er Moussa's cheek. 
" Ses disciples assuraient qu'il se couvrait le vi- 
sage, pour ne pas eblouir ceux qui Tapprochaient 
parTeclat de son visage comme Moyse." — D^Her- 
belot. 

Page 27. 

In hatred of the Caliph's hue of night. 
*' Ilfaut remarquer ici, touchant les habits blancs 
des disciples de Hakem, que la couleurdes habits, 
des coiffures et des etendards des Khalifes Abassi- 
des etant la noir, ce chef de Rebelles ne pouvait pas 
enchoisirune qui lui fut plus opposee." — />'i/(er- 
heloL 

Page 27. 

Javelins of the light Kathaian reed. 
"Our dark javelins, exquisitely wrought of Ka- 
thaian reeds, slender and delicate. "^Po^wi of 
Aim-u* 



•IS 



NO'lES. 

Paga 27. 
Filled with the stems that bloom on Iran's rivers. 
The Persians call this plant Gaz. The celebrated 
shaft of Isfendia, one of their ancient heroes, wan 
made of it. — " Nothing can be more beautiful than 
the appearance of this plant in flower during the 
rains on the banks of rivers, where it is usually in- 
terwoven with a lovely twining asclepias." — Sir. 
W, Jones, Botanical Observations on select Indian 
Plants. 

Page 27. 

Like achenar-tree grove. 

The oriental plane. " The chenar is a deligiit- 

fill tree ; its bole is of a fine white and smooth bark; 

and its foliage, which grows in a tuft at the summit, 

is of a bright green." — Morier^s Travels, 

Page 28. 
With turban'd heads o( every hue and race, 
Bowing before that veil'd and awful face, 
Like tulip beds * * * * 
" The name of tulip' is said to be of Turkish ex- 
traction, and given to the flower on account of its 
resembling a turban." — Beckman's History of Jn- 
%'entions. 

Page 29. 
With belt of broiderM crape. 
And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape. 
" The inhabitants of Bucharia wear a round cloth 
bonnet, shaped much after the Polish fashion, hav- 
ing a large fur border. They tie their kaftans about 
the middle with a girdle of a kind of silk crape, 
several times round the body." — Account of Inde- 
pendent Tartary, in Pinkerton^s Collection, 

Page 30. 
Wav'd like the wings ofthe white birds that fan 
The flying throne of star-taught Soliman. 
This wonderful throne was called the Star of the 
Genii. For a full description of it, see the frag- 



i 



26S NOTES. 

ment ti'anslated by Captain Franklin, from a Per- 
sian MS. entitled " The History of Jerusalem :' 
Oriental Collections, vol. i. p. 235 — When Solomoi 
travelled, the eastern writers say, " he had a carpe 
of green silk on which his throne was placed, being 
of a prodigious length and breadth, and sufficient 
for all his forces to stand upon, the men placing 
themselves on his right hand and the spirits on his 
left ; and that, when all were in order, the wind, at 
his command, took up the carpet, and transported 
it, with all that were upon it, wherever he pleas'd ; 
the army of birds at the same time flying over tlieir 
heads, and forming a kind of canopy to shade them 
from the sun." — -Salens Koran, vol. ii. p. 214, note. 

Page 31. 

and thence descending flowed 
Through many a prophet's breast. 
This is according to D'Herbelot's account of the 
doctrines of Mokanna : — " Doctrine etait que Dieii 
avait pris une forme et figure humaine depuis qu'il 
eutcommande aux Anges d'orer Adam, le premier 
des hommes. Qu' apres la mort d' Adam, Dieu 
etait apparu sous la figure de plusieurs prophetes, et 
autres grands hommes qu' il avail choisis, jusqu' a 
ce qu'il prit celle d'Abu Moslem Prince de Kho- 
rassan, lequel professait i'erreur de la Tenassukhiah 
ou Metempschychose ; it qu' apres la mort de ce 
prince, la Divinite etait passee, et descendue en sa 
personne." 

Page 44. • 

Such Gods as he, 
Whom India serves, the monkey Deity. 

" Apes are in many parts of India highly vene- 
rated, out of respect to the God H.mnaman, adeity 
partaking of the form of that race." — Pennants 
Hindoostan. 

See Ji curious account in Stephen^ s Persia of a 
solemn embassy from some part of the Indies to 
(loa, when the Portuguese were there, offering va?2 



NOTES. 269 

treasures for the recovery of a monkey's tooth, 
M'hich they held in great veneration) and which had 
}jeeH taken away upon the conquest of the kingdom 
of Jafanapatan. 

Page 41. 
— --Proud things of clay, 
To whom if Lucifer, as grandams say, 
Refus'd, though at the forfeit of heaven^s light, 
To bend in worship, Lucifer was right. 
This resolution of Eblis not to acknowledge the 
new creature, man, was, according to Mahometan 
tradition, thus adopted :-^*'The earth (which God 
had selected for the materials of his work) was car- 
ried into Arabia, to a place between Mecca and 
Tayef, where, being first kneaded by the angels, it 
was afterwards fashioned by God himself into a hu- 
man form, and left to dry for the space of forty days, 
or, as others say, as many years ; the angels, in the 
mean time, often visiting it, and Eblis (then one of 
the angels nearest to God's presence, afterwards 
the devil) among the rest; but he, not contented 
with looking at it, kicked it with his foot till it run^, 
and knowing God designed that creature to be hi? 
superior, took a secret resolution never to acknow- 
ledge him as such." — Sale on the Koran. 

Page 45. 
Where none but priests are privileged to tradt 
In that best marble of which Gods are made. 
The material of which images of Gaudma (the 
Birman Deity) is made, is held sacred. *' Birman:< 
may not purchase the marble in mass, but are suffer- 
ed,* and indeed, encouraged, to buy figures of the 
Deity already made." — SymerCs Ava, vol. ii. p. 376 

Page 52. 
The puny bird that dares, with teaming hum, 
Within the crocodile's stretch'd jaws to come. 
The humming-bird is said to run this risk for the 
purpose of picking the crocodile's teeth. The same 
M 2 



I 



270 NOTES. 

circumstance is related of the lapwing, as a fact to 
which he was witness, by Paul Lucas, Voyage fait 
en 1714. 

Page 55. 

Some artists of Yamtcheou having been sent on 
previously. 

" The Feast of Lanterns is celebrated at Yampt- 
cheou with more magnificence than any where else ; 
and the report goes, that the illuminations there are 
ao splendid, that an emperor once, not daring openly 
to leave his court to go thither, committed himself 
with the queen and several princesses of his family 
into the hands of a magician, who promised to trans- 
port them thither in a trice. He made them in the 
night to ascend magnificent thrones that were borne 
up by swans, which in a moment arrived at Yampt- 
cheou. The emperor saw at his leisure all the so- 
lemnity, being carried upon a cloud that hovered 
over the city and descended by degrees ; and came 
back again with the same speed and equipage, no- 
body at court perceiving his absence." — The pre.- 
^e?it State of China, p. 156. 

Page 55. 
Artificial sceneries of bamboo-w^ork. 
See a description of the nuptials of Vizier Alee 
in the Asiatic Annual Register of 1804. 

Page 55. 

The origin of these fantastic Chinese illuminations. 

"The vulgar ascribe it to an accident that hap- 
pened in the family of a famous mandarin, whose 
daughter walking one evening upon the shore of a 
lake, fell in and was drowned ; ihis afflicted father, 
with his family, ran thither, and, the better to find 
her, he caused a great company of lanterns to be 
lighted. All the inhabitants of the place thronged 
after him with torches. The year ensuing they 
made fires upon the shores the same day; theycou 



-n 



NOTES. 271 

tiiiued the ceremony every year, every one lighted 
his lantern, and by degrees it connmenced into a 
custom." — Present State of China. 

Page 58. 
The Kohol's jetty die. 
" None of these ladies," says Shaw, *' take them- 
selves to be completely dressed, till they have ting- 
ed the hair and edges of their eyelids with the pow- 
der of lead-ore. Now, as this operation was per- 
formed by dipping first into the powder a small 
wooden bodkin of the thickness of a quill, and then 
drawing it afterwards, through the eyelids over the 
ball of the eye, we shall have a lively image of what 
the prophet (Jer. iv. 30,) may be supposed to mean 
by rending the eyes with painting. This practice is 
no doubt of great antiquity ; lor besides the in- 
stance already taken notice of, we find that where 
Jezebel is said (2 Rings, ix. 30,) to have painted her 
face, the original words are, she adjusted her eyes 
with thepowder of lead ore."" — Shawns Travels. 

Page 62. 

drop 

About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food. 

Tavemier adds, that while the Birds of Paradise 
lie in this intoxicated state, the emmets come and 
eat off their legs, and that hence it is they are said 
to have no feet. 

Page 63. 

As they were captives to the king of flowers. 
" They deferred it till the king of flowers should 
ascend his throne of enamelled foliage." — The Ba- 
hardanush. 

Page 64. 

But a light golden chain-work round her hair, &c. 

" One of the head-dresses of the Persian women 

is composed of a light golden chain-work, set with 

small pearls, with a thin gold plate pendant, about 



•'nji 



-'; 272 NOTES. 

ihe bigness of a crown-piece, on which is impressed 
I an Arabian prayer, and which hangs upon the cheek 

I below the ear." — Hanway's Travels. 

j Page 64. 

I I The maids of Yezd. 

1 " Certainly the women of Yezd are the handsom 

J est women in Persia. The proverb is, that to liv. 

', ' happy, a man must have a wife of Yezd, eat thi 

\ bread of Yezdecas, and drink the wine of Shiraz.' 

' ); — Tavemier, 

.•| Page 68. 

' And his floating eyes — oh! they resemble 

Blue water-lilies. 
"Whose wanton eyes resemble blue water-lilie 
agifated by the breeze." — Jayadevd, 

Page 69. 
To muse upon the pictures that hung round. 
It has been generally supposed that the Mahom 
tans prohibit all pictures of animals; but Toderi 
shews that, though the practice is forbidden by the 
Koran, they are not more averse to paiuted figures 
and images than other people. From Mr. Murphy's 
wori«, too, we find that the Arabs of Spain had no 
objection to the introduction of figures into paint- 

Page 70. 
, r Like her own radiant planet of the West, 

Whose orb when half retired looks loveliest. 
; This is not quite astronomically true. " Dr. Hud- 

' ley (says KeiU has shewn that Venus is - brightest, 

when she is about forty degrees removed from the 
sun ; and that then but only a fourth part of her lu- 
cid disk is to be seen from the earth." 

Page 70. 
With her from Saba's bowers, in whose bright eyes 
' He read, that to be bless'd, is to be wise. 

** In the palace which Solomon ordered to be 
built againsi the arrival of the queen of Saba, the 



NOTES. 273 

door or pavement was of transparent glass, laid over 
running water in which fish were swimming." 
This led the queen into a very natural jnistake, which 
the Koran has not thought beneath its dignity to 
commemorate. " It was said unto her, Enter the 

•alace. And when she saw it, she imagined it to 

•e a great water ; and she discovered her legs by 
• ifting up her robe to pass through it. Whereupon 

Solomon said to her. Verily, this is the place even 

loored with glass." — Chap. 27. 

Page 72. 

Zulieka. 

" Such was the name of Potiphar^s wife, accord- 
ing to the sura^ or chapter of the Alcoran which 
contains the history oi Joseph, and which for ele- 
ijance of style surpasses every other of the prophet's 
Sooks; some Arabian writers also call her Rail. 
The passion which this frail beauty of antiquty 
conceived for her young Hebrew slave has given 
rise to a much est emed poem in the Persian lan- 
guage, entitled Yitsef van Zelikhay by Noureddin 
Jami; the manuscript copy of which in tiie Bodlei- 
an library at Oxford is supposed to be the finest in 
the whole world." — Note upon Notfs Translation 
of Hafez, 

Page 80. 

The apples of Istakhar. 

•'In the territory of Istakhar there is a kind of 
apple, half of which is sweet and half sour. — Ebn 
HaukaL 

Page 80. 

They saw a young Hindoo girl upon the bank. 

For an account of this ceremony, v. Grandpre^s 
vage in the Indian Ocean. 



'274 NOTES. 

Page 80. 

The Otontala or Sea of Stars. 

"The place where the Whangho, a river of Ti* 

bet, rises, and where there are more than a hundred^ 

springs, which sparkle like stars ; whence it is-* 

called Hotun hor, that is, the Sea of Stars." — •= 

Description of Tibet in Pinkerton. , 

Page 82. 

This city of war, which in a few short hours : 

Has sprang up here. \ 

** The Lescar, or imperial camp, is divided like a 

regular town, into squares, alleys, and streets, and ; 

from a rising ground furnishes one of the most ^ 

, agreeable prospects in the world. Starting up in a ■ 

few hours in an uninhabited plain, it raises the idea i 
of a city built by enchantment. Even those who : 
leave their houses in cities to follow the prince in . 
his progress are frequently so charmed with the" 
Lescar, when situated in a beautiful and convenient, J 
place, that they cannot prevail with themselves to ii 
remove. To prevent this inconvenience to the! 
court, the Emperor, after sufificient time is allowed! 
to the tradesmen to follow, orders them to be burnt i 
out of their tents." — Dow^s Hindostan. ] 

Colonel Wilks gives a lively picture of an Eastern 
encampment. — *' His camp, like that of most Indian ' 

J armies, exhibited a motley collection of covers from .; 

the scorching sun and dews of the night, variegated \ 

\ according to the taste or means of each individual^ j 

by extensive inclosures of coloured calico, surround- ^ 

1 ing superb suits of tents; by ragged clotha or bIan-1 

] kets stretched over sticks or branches ; palm leaves' 

hastily spread over similar supports ; handsome | 
tents and splendid canopies ; horses, oxen, elephants -, 
and camels, all intermixed without any exterior : 
mark of order or design, except the flags of the \ 
chiefs, which usually mark the centres of a con- ! 
geries of these masses, the only regular part of '^ 
the encampment being the streets of shops, each< 
of which is constructed nearly in the manner of a J 






NOTES. 275 

booth at an English fair." — Historical sketches of 
'he South of India, 

Page 82. 
And camels tufted o'er with Yemen's shells. 
" A superb camel, ornamented with strings, and 
tufts of small shells."— ^/j Bey. 
Page 82. 
The tinkling throngs 
Of laden camels, and their drivers' songs. 
" Some of the camels have bells about their necks 
and some about their legs, like those which our car- 
riers put about their fore-horses' necks, which to- 
gether with the servants (who belong to the camels, 
and travel on foot,) singing all night, make a plea- 
sant noise, and the journey passes away delight- 
fiilly." — PiV^'s Account of the Mahometans. 

"The camel-driver follows the camels singing, 
and sometimes playing upon his pipe : the louder 
he sings and pipes, the fester the camels go. Nay, 
they will stand still when he gives over his music.'* 
' — Tavernier. 

Page 87. 
Hot as that crimson haze, 
By which the prostrate caravan is aw'd. 
Savary says of the south wind, which blows in 
Egypt, from February to May, *' Sometimes it ap- 
pears only in the shape of an impetuous whirlwind, 
which passes rapidly, and is fatal to the traveller 
siirpriged in the middle of the deserts. Torrents 
of burning sand roll before it, the firmament is en- 
veloped in a. thick veil, and tlie sun appears of the 
colour of blood. Sometimes whole caravans are 
buried in it." 

Page 9S. 
— The pillar'd Throne 
Of Parviz. 
There were said to be under this Throne or Pa- 
, lace of Khosrou Parvis a hundred vaults filled with 
^* treasures so immense, that some Mahometan wrir- 



276 NOTES. 

ters tell us, their^ Propliet, to encourage his disci* 
pies, earned them to a rock, which at his command 
opened, and gave them a prospect through it of the 
treasures of Khosrou,"— Universal History, 

Page 94. 

And they beheld an orb ample and bright, 

Rise from the Holy Well. 

We are not told more of this trick of the Impos« 

tor, than that it was *'une machine, qu'ildisait etre 

la Lune." According to Richardson, the miracle 

f IS perpetuated in Nekscheb.— *' Nakshab, the name 

of a city in Transoxiania, where they say there is a 
well, in which the appearance of the' moon is to be 
seen night and day." 

Page 95. 
On for the lamps that light yon lofty screen. 
The tents of Princes were generally illuminated, 
Norden tells us that the tent of the Bey of Girge 
was distinguished from the other tents by forty lan- 
terns being suspended before ii.~v, Hurmer's Ob- 
servations on Job. 

Page 98. * 

Engines of havoc in, unknown before. 
That they knew the secret of the Greek fire 

J among the Mussulmans early in the eleventh cen- 

] tury appears from Dow's account of Mamood I. 

** When he arrived at Moulian, finding that the 

^ country of the Jits was defended by great rivers, he 

ordered fifteen hundred boats to be built, each of 

' which he armed with six iron spikes, projecting 

from their brows and side?, to prevent their bein^ 

^ boarded by the enemy who were very expert iii 

that kind of war. When he had launched this fleet 
he ordered twenty archers into each boat, and five 
others with fire-bails, to burn the craft of the Jits 
iiid naptha to set the whole river on fire." 



-^^■^'•■•^*cm;.a^^:l 



NOTES. 277 

The ag;nee aster, too, in Indian poems, the In- 
strument of Fire, whose flames cannot be extin- 
guished, is supposed to signify the Greek Fire — v. 
Wilks^s South of India, vol. i. p. 471, — And in the 
curious Javan poem, the Brata Yudha, given by 
Mr. Raffles in his History of Java, we find, ** He 
aimed at the heart of Soeta with the sharp-pointed 
weapon of Fire." 

The mention of gunpowder as in use among the 
Arabians, long before its supposed discovery in Eu- 
rope, is inti'odnced by Ebn Fadhl, the Egyptian 
geographer, who lived in the thirteenth century. 
'* Bodies," he says, *' m the form of scorpions bound 
round and filled with nitrous powder, glide along, 
making a gentle noise: then, exploding, they light- 
en, as it were, and ourn. But there are others, 
which cast into the air, stretch along like a cloud, 
roaring horribly, as thunder roars, and on all sides 
vomiting out flames, burst, burn, and reduce to cin- 
ders whatever comes in their way." The historian 
Ben Abdalla, in speaking of the siege of Abulualid 
in the year of the He5ira712, says, '* A fiery globe 
by means of combustible matter, with a mighty noise 
suddenly emitted, strikes with the force oflightning, 
and shakes the citadel." — v. the extracts from Ca- 
bin's Biblioth. Arab. Hispan. in the Appendix to 
Berington's Literary History of the Middle Ages. 

Page 98. 

Discharge as from a kindled naptha fount. 

See Hanway\ Account of the Springs of Naptha 
at Baku (whicli is called by Lieutenant Pottin^er 
Joala Mookhee, or the Flaming Mouth,) taking fire 
and running into the sea. Dr, Cooke in his Jour- 
nal mentions some wells in Circassia, strongly im- 
pregnated with this inflammable oil, from which 
issues boiling water, *' Though the weather," he 
adds, "was now very cold, the warmtii of these 
wells of hot water produced near them the verdure 
and flowers of spring." 



'5^S NOTES. 

Major Scott Waring says that naptha is used by 
tiie Persians, as we are told it was in hell for lamps 
• . • • • • Many a row 
Ui starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
With naptha and asphaltus, yielded light 
As from a sky. 

Page 105. 
Thou seest yon cistern in the shade— -'tis fill'd 
With burning drugs for this last hour distill'd, 
" II donaa du poison dans le vin a tous sesgens, 
^ et se jetta lui-meme ensuite dans une cuve pleine de 
drogues brulantes et consumantes, afin qu'il ne res- 
tat rien de tous les membres de son corps, et que 
ceux qui restaient de sa secte puissent croire qu'il 
^J^aitmonte au ciel, ce qui ne manqua pas d'arriver." 
D Hei'belot, 

Page 111. 

To eat any mangoes but those of Mazagong was, of 
coui-se, impossible. 

*' The celebrity of Mazagong is owing to its man- 
goes, which are certainly the best fruit I ever tasted. 
I he parent tree, from which all those of this spe- 
cies have been grafted, is honoured during the fruit 
-®k^u"t J ^ ^"^""^ ^^ sepois, and, in the reign of 

A •'®|*^"' couriers were stationed between Delhi 
and the Mahratta coast, to secure an abundant and 
tresii supply of mangoes for the royal table."— ^r5. 
Cyra^am'5 Journal of a Residence in India. 

Page 111. 
His fine antique porcelain. 
This old porcelain is found in digging, and '* if it 
IS esteemed, it is not because it has acquired any new 
degree of beauty in the earth, but because it has re- 
tained Its ancient beauty; and this alone is of great 
importance m China, where they give large sums 
?or the smallest vessels which were used under ihn 






NOTES. 279 

Emperors Van and Chun, who reigned many ages 
before the dynasty of Tang, at which time porcelain 
began to be used by the Emperors," (about the 
year 442.)^i>M7m'5 Collection of curious Obser- 
vations, etc. — a bad translation of some parts of the 
Lettres Edifiantes et Curieuses of the Missionary 
Jesuits. 

Page 113. 
That sublime bird, which flies always in the air, 

'' The Humma, a bird peculiar to the East. It is 
supposed to fly constantly in the air, and never touch 
the ground: it is looked upon as a bird of happy 
omen, and that every head it overshades will in time 
wear acro\yn." — Richardson, 

In the terms of alliance made by Fuzzel Oola Khau 
with Hyder in 1760, one of the stipulations was, 
*' that he should have the distinction of two honor- 
ary attendants standing behind him, holding fans 
composed of the feathers of the humma, according 
to the practice of his family." — Wilks's South of 
India. He adds in a note : " The Humma is a fabu- 
lous bird. The head over which its shadow once 
passes will assuredly be circled with a crown. The 
splendid little bird, suspended over the throne of 
Tippoo Sultaun, found at Seringapatam in 1799, 
was intended to represent this poetical fancy." 

Page 114. 
IVhose words, like those on the Written Mountain, 
last forever. 
" To the pilgrims to Mount Sinai we must attri- 
bute the inscriptions, figures, etc. on those rocks, 
which have from thence acquired the name of the 
Written Mountain."- Volney. M, Gebelin and others 
have been at much pains to attach some myste- 
rious and important meaning to these inscriptions; 
but Niebuhr, as well as Volney, thinks that they 
must have been executed at idle hours by the travel- 
jers to Mount Sinai, *' who were satisfied with cut- 



280 NOTES. 

ting the unpolished rock with any pointed instru- 
ment; adding to their names and the date of 'their 
journeys some rude figures which bespeak the hand 
of a people but litde skilled in the arts." — Niebuhr, 

Page 114. 
From the dark hyacinth to which Hafez compares 
his mistress's hair. 
Vide Nott's Hafez, Ode v. 
Page 114. 
To the Camalata by whose rosy blossoms the hea- 
ven of Inra is scented. 
*' The Camalata (called by Linnaeus, Ipomaea) is 
the most beautiful of its order, both in the colour 
and form of its leaves and flowers ; its elegant blos- 
soms are 'celestial rosy red. Love's proper hue,' 
and have justly procured it the name of Camalata 
or Love's Creeper." — 8i?' W. Jones, 

" Camalata may also mean a mythological plant, 
by which all desires are eranted to such as inhabit 
the heaven of India: and if ever flower was wor- 
thy of paradise, it is our charming Ipomaea."— /6. 

Page 114. 
The Flower-loving iNymph, whom they worship 
the temples of Khathay. 
*' According to [^'ather Premare in his tract oi 
Chinese Mythology, the mother of Fo-hi was thoj 
daughter of heaven, surnamed Flower-loving; and as* 
the nymph was walking alone on the bank of a river, 
she found herself encircled by a rainbow, after which 
she became pregnant, and, at the end of twelve years 
was delivered of a son radiant as herself." — Asiat. 
Res, 

Page 118. 
On the blue flower which, Bramins say 
Blooms no where but in Paradise. 
*' The Brahmins of this province insist that the 
blue Campac flowers only in Paradise."— ^?r W. 



on 
hel 



NOTES. 281 

Jones, It appears, however, from a curious letter 
of the Sultan of Menaagcabow, given by Marsden, 
that one place on earth may lay claim to the posses- 
sion of it. *' This is the Sultan, who keeps the 
flower Champaka that is blue, and to be found ia 
no other country but his, being yellow elsewhere." 
Marsden's Sumatra. 

Page 119. 
I know where the Isles of Perfume are* 

Diodorus mentions the Isle ofPanchaia, to the 
south of Arabia Felix, wheie there was a temple of 
Jupiter. This Island, or rather cluster of isles, has 
disappeared, " sunk (says Grandpre) in the abyss 
made by the fire beneath their foundations." — Voy- 
age to the Indian Ocean, 

Page 120. 

Whose air is balm, whose Ocean spreads 
O'er coral rocks and amber beds, etc. 

" It is not like the Sea of India, whose bottom ir^ 
rich with pearls andambergris, whose mountains ot 
the coast are stored with gold and precious stones, 
whose gulfs breed creatures that yield ivory, and 
among the plants of whose shores are ebony, red 
wood, and the wood of Hairzan, aloes, camphor, 
cloves, sandalwood, and all other spices and aroma- 
tics; where parrots and peacocks are birds of the 
forest, and musk and civet are collected upon the 
lands." — Travels of Two Mahommedansi 

Page 120. 
Thy pillarM shades. 

in the ground 
I'he bended twigs take root, anddaughters grow 
About the mother tree, a pillarM shade, 
High over-arch'd and echoing walks between. 

MlLTOiN. 



282 NOTES. 

For a particular description and plate of the Ban- 
yan-tree, V. Cordimr^s Ceylon. 

Page 12a. 
Thy Monarchs and their thousand thrones.' 
" With this immense treasure Mamood returned 
to Ghizni, and in the year 400 prepared a magnifi- 
cent festival, where he displayed to the people his 
wealth in golden thrones and in other ornaments, in 
a great plain without the citv of Ghizni."— i^ms/z- 
ta. 

Page 121. 

blood like this, 
For Liberty shed, so holy is. 
Objections may be made to my use of the word 
Liberty, in this, and more especially in the storv 
that follows It as totallj^ inapplicable to any state of 
things that has ever existed in the East ; but though 
I cannot, of course, mean to employ it in that en- 
larged and noble sense which is so well understood 
at the present day, and, I grieve to say, so little ac- 
ted upon, yet it is no disparagement to the word io 
apply It to that national independence, that free- 
dom from the interference and dictation of foreign- 
ers, without which, indeed, no liberty of any kind \\ 
can exist, and for which, both Hindoos and Persians f! 
fought against their Mussulman invaders with, in ma- 
ny cases, a bravery that deserved much better suc- 
cess. 

Page 122. 
Afric's Lunar Mountains. 
'' Sometimes called," Says Jackson, *'• Jibbel ■ 
Kumne, 6r the white or lunar-coloured mountains, ! 
HO a white horse is called by the Arabians a moon- 
coloured horse." 

. Page 126. 
Only the fierce hyaena stalks ^ ^ 

Throughout the city's desolate walks. ^ 

" Gondar was full of hvaenas from the time i- 
•11 lied dark till the dawn of day, seeking the differ- 



NOTES. 283 

ent pieces of slaughtered carcases, which this cruel 
and unclean people expose in the streets without 
burial, and wlio firmly believe that these animals 
are Falashta from the neighbouring mountains, 
transformed by magic, and come down to eat hu- 
man flesh in the dark in safety."— ^Bh/ce. 

Page J 27. 

But see, — who yonder comes. 

This circumstance has been often introduced into 
poetry ; — by Vincentius Fabricius, by Darwin, and 
lately, with very powerful effect, by Mr. Wilson. 

Page 130. 

The wild bees of Palestine. 

"Wild bees, frequent in Palestine, in hollow 
trunks or branches of trees, and the clefts of rocks. 
Thus it is said (Psalm 81.) "honey out of the slo- 
ney rock.'' — Burder's Oriental Customs. 

Page 131. 

And, Jordan, those sweet banks of thine, 
And woods, so lull of nightingales. 

"The river Jordan is Ott both sides beset wifh 
little, thick, and pleasant woods, among which thou- 
sands of nightingales warble all together, — Theve- 
not. 

Page 132. 

On the brink 
Of a small imaref s rustic fount. 

Imaret, " hospice ou on loge et nourrlt, gratis, 
les pelerins pendant trois jours." — Toderini, transi' 
'nU'd by the Abbe de Cournand — v. also Casteifan''^ 
M,>iirs des Otiiomans, torn. v. p. 145. 



tJ84 . NOTES. 

Page 133. 
The boy has started from the bed 
Of flowers, where he had laid his hesal, 
And down upon the fragrant sod 
Kneels. 

" Such Turks as at the common hours of prayei 
are on the road, or so employed as not to find con- 
venience to attend the Mosques, are still obliged to 
execute that duty ; nor are they ever known to fail, 
whatever business they are then about, but pray 
immediately when the hour alarms them, whatever 
they are about, in that very place they chance to 
stand on; insomuch that when a janissary, whom 
you have to guard you up and down the city, iiears 
the notice which is given him from the fBteeples, he 
will turn about, stand still, and beckon with his 
hand, to tell his charge he must have patience for a 
while ; when, taking out his handkerchief, he 
spreads it on the ground, sits cross-legged thereup- 
on, and says his prayers, though in the open market, 
which having ended, he leaps briskly up, salutes 
the person whom he ^undertook to convey, and re- 
news his journey with the mild expression of ghell 
ghonnum ghell, or, Come, dear, lollow me," — Aa- 
roii Hiirs'Tvavels. 

Page 139. 
The Banyan Hospital. 

" This account excited a desire of visiting ^ the 
Banyan Hospital, as I had heard much^of their be- 
nevolence to all kinds of animals that were either 
sick, lame, or infirm, through age or accident. On 
my arrival there were presented to my view many 
horses, cows and oxen, in one apartment; in ano- 
ther, dogs, sheep, goats and monkeys, with clean 
straw for them to repoJ^e on. Above stairs were 
depositories for seeds of many sorts, and flat, broad 
dishes for water, for I he use of birds and insects." 
— Parsons. 

It is said that all animals know the Banyans, that 
the most timid approach them, and that birds will fly ; 
nearer to them tiian toother people. — ?. Grandpre. 

j 



NOTES. 285 

Page 139. 
Whose sweetness was not to be drawn forth, like 
that of the fragrant grass near the Ganges, by 
crushing and trampling upon ihem. 
" A very fragrant grass from the banks of the 
Ganges, near Heridwar, which in some places co- 
vers whole acres, and diffuses when crushed a strong 
odour." — Sir W. Jones on the Spikenard of the 
Ancients. 

Page 140. 
Artizans in chariots* 
Oriental Tales. 

Page 140. 

Waved plates of gold and silver flowers over their 
heads. 
**Or rather," says Scott, upon the passage of Fe- 
IrJshta, from which this is taken, "small coin stamp- 
ed with the figure of a flower. Th6y are still used 
in India to distribute in charity, and on occasion, 
thrown by the purse-bearers of the great among the 
populace. 

Page 141. 
His delectable alley of trees. 

This road is 250 leagues in length. It has ** little 
pyramids or turrets," says Bernier^ "erected every 
half league, to mark the ways, and frequent wells 
to afibrd drink to passengeis, and to water the 
young trees." 

Page 142. 

On the clear, cold waters of which floated muUi 
tudes of the beautiful red lotus. 

" Here is a large pagoda by a tank, on the water 
of which float multitudes of the beautiful red lotus ; 
the flower is larger than that of the wiiite water-liJy, 
ind is the most lovely of the nymphaeas I have 

Ii^en." — Mrs, Graham's Journal of a residenre in 
ndia. 
N 



»J86 NOTES> 

Page 143. 

Who many hundred years since had fled hither 
from their Arab conquerors. 
" On les voit, persecutes par les Khalifes, ee re- 
tirer dans les montagnes du Kerman : plusieurs choi- 
sirent pour retraite la Tariarie et la Chine ; d'autres 
s'arreterent sur les bords du Gagne, a I' est de Del- 
hi:^ ^M, Anquetilj Memoires de r Academic, torn, 
xxxi, p. 346. 

Page 143. 

As a native of Cashmere, which had in the same 
manner become the prey of strangers. 

" Cashmere (say its historians) had its own prin- 
f^es 4000 years before its conquest by Akbar in 1585. 
Akbar would have found some difficulty to reduce 
this Paradise of the Indies, situated as it is, withm 
Buch a fortress of mountains, but its monarch, Yuset 
Khan, was basely betrayed by his Omrahs."— P^/t- 
nant. 

Page 144. 
His story of the Fire-worshippers. 
Voltaire tells us that in his tragedy " Les Gue- 
bres," he was generally supposed to have alluded 
J to the Jansenists ; and I should not be surprised it 

1 this story of the Fire-worshippers were found capa- 

ble of a similar doubleness of application. 

] Page 149. 

1 Who, lulled in cool kiosk or bower. 

** In the midst of the garden is the chiosk, Uiat 

^ ifi, a large room, commonly beautified with a fine 

< fountain in the midst of it. It is raised nine or ten 

steps, and enclosed with gilded lattices, round which 
viner, jessamines, and honeysuckles make a «)rt ot 
green wall ; large trees are planted round this 
place, which is the scene of their greatest plea- 
^iires."— Xa(/y. iW. W. Montague, 



-^- ■ 



-,\ 



WOTES. 287 

Page 149. 
Before their mirrors count the time. 

The women of the East are never without their 
looking-glasses. "In Barbary," says Shaw, "they 
are so tond of their looking-glasses, which they 
hang upon their breastp, that they will not lay them 
aside, even when, after the drudgery of the day, 
they are obliged to go two or three miles with a 
pitcher or a goat's skin to fetch water." — Travels, 

In other parts of Asia they wear little looking- 
glasses on their thumbs. *' Hence (and from the lo- 
tus being considered the emblem of beauty) is the 
meaning of the following mute intercourse of two 
lovers before their parents. 

'* He, with salute of deference due, 

A lotus to his forehead prest ; 
She rais'd her mirror to his view, 

Then turn'd it inward to ho breast." 

Asiatic Miscellany , vol. ii. 

Page 151. 

tb' untrodden solitude 
Of Ararat's tremendous peak. 

Struy says, " I can well assure the reader that 
their opinion is not true, who suppose this mount to 
be inaccessible." He adds that, "the lower part 
<)f the mountain is cloudy, misty and dark, the mid- 
dlemost part very cold and like clouds of snow, but 
the upper regions perfectly calm.'* — It was on this 
mountain that the Ark was supposed to have rested 
after the Deluge, and part of it they say exists there 
still, which Struy thus gravely accounts for : — 
" Whereas none can remember that the air on the 
top of the hill did ever change or was subject either 
to wind or rain, which is presumed to be the reason 
that the Ark has endured so long without being rot- 
ten." — V, CarrerVs Travels, where the Doctor 
kughs at this whole account of Mouat Ararat. 



288 NOTES* 

Page 157. 
The Gheber belt that round him clung. 
^' Pour se distinguer des Idolatres de 1' Inde, lea 
Gruebres seceignenttous d'un cordon de laine, ou 
de poil de chameau." — Eiicyclopedie Francaise, 
D'Herbelotsays this belt was generally of leather. 

Page 157. 
Who morn and even 
Hail their Creator's dwelling-place 
Among the hving lights of heaven. 

^' As to fire, the Ghebers place the springhead of 
it in that globe of fire, the sun, by them called Mi- 
thras, or Mihir, to which they pay the highest reve- 
rence, in gratitude for the manifold benefits flowing 
from its ministerial omniscience. But they are so 
far from confounding the subordination of the ser- 
vant with the majesty of its Creator, that they not 
only attribute no sort of sense or reasoning to the 
sun or fire, in any of its operations, but consider it 
as a purely passive blind instrument, directed and 
governed by the immediate impression on it of the 
will of God ; but they do not even give that lumina- 
ry, all glorious as it is, more than the second rank 
amongst his works, reserving the first for that stu- 
pendous production of divine power, the mind of 
man." — Grose, Thn false charges brought against 
the religion of these people by their Mussulman 
tyrants is but one proof among many of tiie truth of 
tiiis writer's remark, " that calumny is often added 
to oppression, if but for the sake of justifying it. 

Page 161. 
That tree which grows over the tomb of the musi- 
cian Tan-Sein. 
*' Within the enclosure which surrounds this mo- 
nument (at Gualior) is a small tomb to the memory 
of Tan-Sein, a musician of incomparable skill, w-ho 
flourished at the court of Akbar. The tomb is 
overshadowed by a tree, concerning which a super- 



w^rwwi 



NOTES. 289 

stitious notion prevails that the chewing of its leaves 
will give an extraordinary melody to the voice." — 
Narrative of ajouimey from Agra to Ouzem, by W. 
Hunter J Esqr. 

Page 161, 
The awful signal of the bamboo-staff. 
" It is usual to place a small white triangular flag 
fixed to a bamboo staff of ten or twelve feet long, 
at the place where a tiger has destroyed a man. It 
is common for the passengers also to throw each a 
stone or brick near !he spot, so thai in the course 
of a little time a pile equal to a good waggon-load 
is collected. The sigh> of these flags and piles of 
stones imparts a eeitain melancholy, not perhaps 
altogether void of apprehension," — Oriental Field 
Sports^ vol. ii. 

Page 161. 
Beneath the shade some pious hands had erect- 
ed, etc. 
" The Ficus Indica is called the Pagod Tree and 
Tree of Councils ; the first, from the idols placed 
und€r its shade ; the second because meetings were 
held under its cool branches. In some places it is 
believed to be the haunt of spectres, as the ancient 
spreading oaks of Wales have been of fairies ,* in 
others are erected, beneath the shade, pillars of 
stone, or posts, elegantly carved and ornamented 
with the most beautiful porcelain to supply the use 
of mirrors." — Pennant. 

Page 162. 
The nightingale now bends her flight. 
*' The nightingale sings from the pomegranate 
groves in the day-time, and from the loftiest trees at 
night." — RiLSseVs Aleppo. 

Page 166. 
Before whose sabre's dazzling light, etc. 
'* When the bright cimilars make the eyes of ouy 
heroes wink." — The Moallakat Poem of Amru^ 



290 NOTES. 

Page 167. 

As Lebanon's small mouirtain flood 

Is rendered holy by the ranks 

Of sainted cedars on its banks. 
In the Lettres Edifiantes, there is a different cause 
assigned for its name of Holy. " In these are deep 
caverns, which formerly served as so many ceils for 
a great number of recluses, who had chosen these 
retreats as the only witnesses upon earth of the se- 
verity of their penance. The tears of these pious 
penitents gave the river of which we have just treat 
ed the name of the holyRiver."~v. Chateaubriand^^ 
Beauties of Christianity. 

Page 168. 

A rocky mountain o'er the sea 

Of Oman beetling awfully. 
This mountain is my own creation, as the "stu- 
pendous chain" of which I suppose it a link does 
not extend quite so far as the shores of the Persian 
Gulf, " This long and lofty range of mountains 
formerly divided Media from Assyria, and now 
forms the boundary of the Persian and Turkish em- 
pires. It runs parallel with the river Tigris, and 
Persian Gulf, and almost disappearing in the vici- 
nity of Gombaroon (Harraozia) seems once more to 
rise in the southern districts of Kerman, and follow 
ing an easterly course through the centre of Meek 
vaun and Balouchistan, is entirely lost in the desert.- 
of Sinde," — Kinnier^s Persian Empire, .;- 

Page 169. 

That bold were Moslem, who would dare 
At twilight hour to steer his skiff 
Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff. 

" There is an extraordinary hill in this neigh 
bourhood, called Kobe Gubr or the Guebre's mour 
tain. It rises in the form of a lofty cupola, and o 
the summit of it, they say, are the remains of an Atus 
Kudu or Fire Temple, It is superstitiously held \ 



IW~W^^*:/I^^~ '■ : • rff'f^vyg.'- - ,™ 



NOTES. 291 

be the residence of Deeves or Sprites, and many 
marvellous stories are recounted of the injury and 
witchcraft suffered by those who essayed in former 
days to ascend or explore it.'' — Pottingerh Beloo- 
chistan. 

Pagel70. 
Still did the mighty flame burn on. 
" At the city of Yedz in Persia, which iy distin- 
guished by the appellation of the Darub Abadut, or 
Seat of Religion, the Guebres are permitted to have 
an Atush Kudu or Fire Temple (which, they assert, 
has had the sacred fire in it since the days of Zoro- 
aster) in their own compartment of the city; but. 
for this indulgence they are indebted to the avarice, 
not the tolerance of the Persian government, which 
taxes them at 25 rupees each man." — Pottinger^s 
Beloochistan. 

Page 173. 
while on that altar's fires 
They swore. 
** Nuld'entre euxoserait se perjurer, quand il'a 
pris a temoin cet element terrible et vengeur." — 
Encyclopedie Francais, 

Page 174. 
The Persian lily shines and towers. 
" A vivid verdure succeeds the autumnal rains» 
rnd the ploughed fields are covered with the Per- 
^n lily, of a resplendent yellow colour." — RusseVs 
Aleppo. 

Page 179. 
Like Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye, 
fiut turn to ashes on the lips. 
"They say that there are apple-trees upon the sides 
of this sea, which bear very lovely fruit, but within 
are all full of ashes." — Thevenot. The same is as- 
serted of the oranges there; v. Witmari's Travels 
in Asiatic Turkey. 



292 NOTES. 

" The Asphalt Lake, known by the name of th 
Dead Sea, is very remarkable on account of ih 
considerable proportion of salt which it contains, 
In this respect it surpasses every other known watei 
on the surface of the earth. This great proportion 
of bitter tasted salts is the reason why neither ani- 
mal nor plant can live in this water.'' — Klaproth^s^ 
Chemical Analysis of the water of the Dead Sea, 
Annals of Philosophy, January, 1813. Hasselquist, 
however, doubts the truth of this last assertion, as 
there are shell-fish to be found in the lake. . 

Lord Byron has a similar allusion to the fruits of^ 
the Dead Sea, in that wonderful display of genius, 
iiis Third Canto of Childe Harold, — magnificent be- 
yond any thing, perhaps, that even he has ever writ- 
ten. 

Page 179. j 

While lakes that shone in mockery nigh. 

The Suhrab or Wafer of the Desert is said to be 
caused by the rarefaction of the atmosphere from 
extreme heat; and, which augments the delusion, 
it is most frequent in hollows, where water might 
be expected to lodge. I have seen bushes and trees 
reflected in it with as much accuracy as though it 
had been the face of a clear and srill lake." — Pot- 
^ finger. 

] " As to the unbelievers, their works are like a 

' vapour in a plain, which the thirsty traveller think- 

I eth to be water, until when he cometh thereto, lie 

findeth it to be nothing." — Koran^ chap»2A. 



Page 180. 

A flower that the Bidmusk has just passed over. 

'* A wind which prevails in February, called Bid- 
musk, from a small and odoriferous flower of that 
name." — " The wind which blows these flowers 
commonly lasts til! the end of the month."— /r 
liruyn. 



1 



NOTES. 293 

Page ISO. 
Where the sea-gipsies, who live forever on the 
water. 
" The Biajus are of two races; the one is settled 
on Borneo, and are a rude but warlike and indus- 
trious nation, who reckon themselves the original 
possessors of the island of Borneo. The other is 
a species of sea-gipsies or itinerant fishermen, who 
live in small covered boats, and enjoy a perpetual 
summer on the eastern ocean, shifting to leeward 
from island to island, with the variations of the 
monsoon. In some of their customs this singular 
race resemble the natives of the Maldivia islands. 
The Maldivians annually launch a small bark loaded 
with perfumes, gums, flowers, and odoriferous wood 
and turn it adrift at the mercy of winds and waves 
as an offering to the Spirit of the Winds; and 
sometimes similar offerings are made to the spirit 
whom they term the King of the Sea, In like 
manner the Biajus perform their offering to the god 
of evil, launching a small bark, loaded with all the 
sins and misfortunes of the nation, which are ima- 
gined to fall on the unhappy crew that may be so 
unlucky as first to meet with it." — Dr. Leyden oi» 

ihe Languages and Literature of the Indo<Chines& 

Nations. 

Page 180, 

The violet sherbets. 

''The sweet-scented violet is one of the plants 

most esteemed, particularly for its great use in Sor- 

>et, which they make of violet sugar."— /Ta^sc/- 

./ iiist. 

" The sherbet they most esteem, and which is 
Hank by the Grand Signor himself, is marteofvio~ 
f'ts and sugar." — Tavei-nier. 

Page 180. 
The pathetic measure of Nava. 
Last of all she took a guitar, and sung a pathe- 



'M NOTES. 

tic air in the measure caHcd Nava, which is always 
used to express the lamentations of absent lovers'." 
— Persian Tales, 

Page 185. 
Her ruby rosary. 
*' Le Tespih, qui est un chapelet, compose de 99 
petites boules d'a^athe, dejaspe, d'ambre, de corai! 
on d' autre raatiere precieuse. J* en ai vu un su- 
perbeau Seigneur Jerpos; il etait de belles et gros- 
ses perles parfaites et egales, estime trente milie 
piastres." — Toderini. 

Page 196. 
A silk dyed with the blossoms of the sorrowful tree 
of Nilica. 
** Blossoms of the sorrowful Nyctanthes give a 
durable colour to silk." — Remarks on the Husban- 
dry of Bengal-, p. 200. — Nilica is one of the Indian 
names of this flower — Sir W, Jones, — The Per- 
sians call it Gul. — Carreri. 

Page 206. 
When pitying heav*n to roses tuin'd 
The death-flames that beneath him burn'd. 
Of their other prophet Zoroaster, there is a story 
told in Dion PrusceuSf Orat. 36, that the love of wis- 
dom and virtue leading him to a solitary life upon a 
mountain, he found it one day all in a flame, shining 
with celestial fire, out of which he came without 
any harm, and instituted certain sacrifices to God^ 
who, he declared, then appeared to him. — v. Fa- 
trick on Exodus, iii. 2. 

Page 226. 
They were not now far from that Forbidden River. 
** Akbar on his way ordered a fort to be built up- 
on the Nilab, which he called Attock, which meann 
in the Indian language Forbidden : for, by the su- 
perstition of the Hindoos, it was held unlawful to 
':ros8 that river." — Dow^s Hindostnn> 



NOTES. 295 

Page 227. 

Kesembling, she often thought, that people of 
Zinge. 

" The inhabitants of this countiy (Zinge) are ne- 
ver afflicted with sadness or melancholy: on this 
subject the Sheikh Abu-al-Kheir-Azhari has the 
following distich : 

** Who 18 the man without care or sorrow (tell) 
iiati may rub my hand to him. 

** (Behold) the Zingians, without care or sorrow, 

jlicksome, with tipsiness and mirth." 

" The philosophers have discovered that the 
cause of this cheerfulness proceeds from the influ- 
ence of the star Soheil or Canopus, which rises 
over them every night." — Extract from a geogra- 
phical Persian manuscript called Heft Aklin, or the 
Seven Climates, translated by W. Ouseley, Esq. 

Page 227. 
About two miles from Hussun Abdaul were the roy- 
al gardens. 
I am indebted for these particulars of Hussun 
Abdaul to the very interesting Introduction of Mr. 
Elphinstone*3 work upon Caubal. 

Page 227. 
Putting to death some hundreds of those unfortu- 
nate lizards. 

" The lizard Stellio. The Arabs call it Hardun. 
The Turks kill it, for they imagine that by declin- 
ing the head, it mimics them when they say their 
prayers."— i/asse/^wfs^ 

Page 227. 
As the prophet said of Damascus : " it was too de- 
licious." 

" As you enter at that Bazaar, without the gate of 
Damascus, you see the Green Mosque, so called 
because it hath a steeple faced with green glazed 



^d6 NOTES. 

bricks, which render it very resplendent; it is co 
vered at lop with a pavilion of the same stuff. The 
Turks say this mosque was made in that place, be- 
cause Mahomet being come so far, would not enter 
the town, saying it was too delicious." — Thevenot 
This reminds one of the following pretty passage in 
Isaac Walton : *' when I sat last on this primrose 
bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought 
of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of 
Florence, *' that they were too pleasant to be looked 
on, but only on holidays." 

Page 228. 

Would remind the princess of that difference, etc 

"Haroun Al Raschid, Cinqueme Khalife des 
Abassidese, s'etant iin jour brouille avec une de ses 
maitresses nommee Maridah, qu' il aimait cependent 
jusqu' a 1' exces, et cette me sentelligence ayant deja 
dure quelque temps commenca a s' ennuyer. Gia- 
ferBarmaki, son favori, qui s' en appercut, com- 
manda a Abbas ben Ahnaf, excellent Poete de ce 
t€mps-la, de composer quelques vers sur le sujet de 
cette brouillerie. Ce Poete executa I'ordre de Gi- 
afar, qui fit chanter ces vers par Moussali en pre- 
sence du Khalife, et ce Prince fut tellement touche 
J de la tendresse des vers du Poete et de la douceur 

1 de la voix du Musicien qu'il alia aussitot trouver 

r Maridah, et fit sa paix avec elle." — D^Herbelot. 

1 Page 232. 

Where the silken swing. 

^ " The swin^ is a favourite pastinie in the East, as 

i promoting a circulation of air, extremely refreshing 

in those sultry climates." — Richardson, 

"The swings are adorned with festoons. This 

pastime is accompanied with music of voices and 

of instruments, hired by the masters of the swings." 

— Thevenot. 



NOTES. ^297 

Page 233. 

as if all the shores, 
Like those of Kathay, utterM music and gave 
An answer in song to the kiss of each wave. 
This miraculous quality has been attributed also 
to the shore of Attica. " Hujus littus ait Capella 
concentum musicum illisis terrae undis redaere, 
quod propter tantam eruditionis vim puto dictum." 
— Li/iov. Vives in Augustine, de Civitat* Dei, lib. 
xviii. c. 8. 

Page 242. 
The basil tuft that waves 
Its fragrant blossoms over graves. 

"The women in Egypt go, at least two days iu 
the week, to pray and weep at the sepulchres of the 
dead ; and the custom then is to throw upon the 
tombs a sort of herb, which the Arabs call rihan^ 
and which is bur sweet basil." — Maillet, Lett. 10. 

Page 244. 

The mountain-herb that dyes 
The tooth of the fawn like gold. 

Niebuhr thinks this may be the herb which the 
Eastern alchymists look to as a means of making 
*^old. " Most of those alcliymical enthusiasts think 
:hemselves sure of success, if they could but find 
jut the herb, which gilds the teeth and gives ayel- 
lOW colour to the flesh of the sheep that eat it. 
.\Cven the oil of this plant must be of a golden co- 
bur. It is called Hascabschat ed aab.^^ 

Father Jerom Dandini, however, asserts that the 
eeth of the goats at Mount Libanus are of a silver 
.olour; and adds, "this confirms me in that which 
I observed in Candiaj to nit, that the animals that 
ive on Mount Ida eat a certain herb, which renders 
heir teeth of agolden colour; which, according to 
ny judgment, cannot otherwise proceed than from 
;he mines which are under giound,"— i^afwc^iwi. 
Voyage to Mount Libanus. 



298 NOTES. 

Page 246. 
'Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure, 
The past, the present, and future of pleasure. 

" Whenever our pleasure arises from a succession 
of sounds, it is a perception of complicated nature, 
made up of a sensation of the present sound or note, 
and an idea or remembrance of the foregoing, while 
their mixture and concurrence produce such a mys- 
terious delight, as neither could have produced 
alone. And it is often heightened by an anticipa* 
tion of the succeeding notes. Thus sense, memory 
and imagination are conjunctively employed."— 
Gerrard on Taste, 

This is exactly the Epicurean theory of Pleasure, 
as explained by Cicero : — "Quocirca corpus gaude- 
re tiradiu, dum praesentem senliret voluptatem; 
animum et praesentem percipere pariier cum corpo- 
re et prospicere venientem, nee praeteritam praeter- 
flure sinere." 

Madame de Stael accounts upon the same princi- 
ple tor the gratification we derive from rhyme :— 
*' Kile est V image de 1' esperance et du souvenir. 
Un son nous fait desirer celui qui doit lui repondre, 
et quand le second retentit, il nous rapelle celui qui 
vient de nous echapper. 

J Page 246. 

. 'Tis dawn, at least that earlier dawn, 

I Whose glimpses are again withdrawn. 

_ The Persians have two mornings, the Soobhi 

^ Kasim and the Soobhi Sadi-* the false and the real 

I day-break. They account for this phenomenon in 

a most whimsical manner. They say thai as the 
,, sun rises from behind the Kohi Qaf (Mount Cauca- 

sus) it passes a hole perforated through fhat moun- 
tain, and that darting its rays thjough it, is the cause 
' of the Soobhi Kazim, or this temporary appearance 

of day-break. As it ascends, the earth is again 
< veiled in darkness, until the sun rises above the 

mountain and brings with it the Soobhi Sadig, oy 
real morniog. — Scott Waring* 



NOTES. 299 

tie thinks Milton may allude to this when he 
say?, 

Ere the blabbing Eastern scout 
The nice morn on the Indian steep 
From her cabin'd loop-liole peep. 

Page 247. 
. . . held a lieast 
In his magnificent Siialimar. 
*' In the centre of the plain, as it approaches the 
Lake, one of the Delhi Empei-ors, I believe Shah 
Jehan, constructed a spacious garden called the 
Shalimar, which is abundantly stored with fruit 
trees and flowering shrubs. Some of the rivulets 
which intersect the plain are led into a canal at the 
back of the garden, and, flowing through its centre, 
or occasionally thrown into a variety of water- 
works, compose the chief beauty of the Shalimar. 
To decorate this spot the Mogul Princes of India 
have displayed an equal magnificence and taste, es- 
pecially Jehan Gheer, who, with the enchanting 
Woor Mahl, made Kasmire his usual residence du- 
ring the summer months. On arches thrown over 
the canal are erected, at equal distances, four or 
five suits of apartments, each consisting of a saloon, 
with four rooms at the angles, where the followers 
of the court attend, and the servants prepare sher- 
bets, coffee, and the hookah. The frame of the 
doors of the principal saloon, is composed of pieces 
of a stone of a black colour, streaked with yellow 
lines, and of a closer grain and higher polish than 
porphyry. They were taken, it is said, from a Hin- 
doo temple, by one of the Mogul Princes, and are 
esteemed of great value." — Forster, 

Page 255. 
And oh, if there be, &c. 
" Around the exterior of the Dewan Khass (ji 
building of Shah Allum's) in the cornice are the 
following lines in letters of gold upon a ground of 
white marble—* If there be a paradise upon earth; 
it is this, it is this,'— FranHm. 



^ } 



300 NOTES. 

Page 256. 
Like that painted porcelain. 
" The Chinese had formerly the art of painting- 
on the sides of porcelain vessels, fish and other ani- 
mals, which were only perceptible when the vessel 
was full of some liquor. They call this species 
Kai-tsin, that is, azure is put in press, on account ot 
the manner in which the azure is laid on." — '* They 
are every now and then trying to recover the art of 
this magical painting, but to no purpose." — Dunn, 

Page 257. 
More perfect than the divinest images in the House 
of Azor. 
An eminent carver of idols, said in the Koran to 
be father to Abraham. *' I have such a lovely idol 
as is not to be met with in the house of Azor." — 
Hafiz. 

Page 257. 
The grottos, hermitages, and miraculous fountains. 
** The pardonable superstition of the sequestered 
inhabitants has mulfiplied the places of worship of 
Mahadeo, of Beschan, and of Brama. All Cash- 
mere is holy land, and miraculous fountains abound." 
'^Major RenneWs Memoirs of a map of Hindostan. 
Jehanguire mentions "a fountain in Cashmere 
^ called Trinagh, which signifies a snake ; probably 

] because some large snake had formerly been seen 

tiiere." — ** During the lifetime of my father, I went 
J twice to this fountain which is about twenty coss 

, from the city of Cashmere. The vestiges of place? 

of worship and sanctity are to be traced withou 
number amongst the ruins and the caves, which arc 
^ interspersed in its neighborhood." — Toozek Jehan- 

geery — v. Asiat, Misc, vol. 2. 

There is another account of Cashmere by Abu 
Fazil, the author of the Ayin-Acburee, "who,' 
says Major Rennell, " appears to have caught some 
of the enthusiasm of the Valley, by his descriptions 
M' the holy places in it." 



11 




NOTEaF. ^n 

Page 257. 
Whose houses roof d with flowers. 
" On a standing roof of wood is laid a covering 
of fine earth, which shehers the building from the 
great Quantiiv of snow that falls in the winter sea- 
son. This &nce communicates an equal warmth 
in winter, as a refreshing coolness in the summer 
season, when the tops of the houses, which are 
planted with a variety of flowers, exhibit at a dis- 
tance the spacious view of a beautifully chequered 
parterre." — Porster, 

Page 257. 
tianthorns of the triple coloured tortoise shell of 
Pegu. 
** Two hundred slaves there are, who have no 
other oflice than to hunt the woods and marshes for 
triple coloured tortoises for the king*s viviary. Of 
the shells of these also lantborns are made." — Vin- 
cent le Blanc's Travels. 

Page 258. 
The meteors of the north as they are seen by those 
hunters. 
For a description of the Aurora Borealis as it ap- 
pears to these hunters, v. Encyclopedia. 

Page 258, 
The cold, odoriferous wind, 
i'his wind, which is to blow from Syria Damas- 
nena, is, according to the Mahometans, one of the 
igns of the Last Da^'s af)proach. 
' Another of the signs is, " Great distress in the 
world, so that a man when he passes by another'« 
^rave shall say, Would to God I were in his place!" 
.-Salens Preliminary Discourse. 

Page 25^. 
The cerulean throne of Koolburga. 
•' On Mahommed Shaw's return to Koolburgu 
(the capital of Dekkan,) he made a great festival 



■;02 NOTES. 

and mounted this throne with much pomp and mag- 
nificence, calling it Firozeh or Cerulean. I have 
. heard some old persons, who saw the throne Firo- 
*ReH in the reign of Sultan Mamood Bhamenec, des- 
-iribe it. They say that it was in length nine feet, 
;ind three in breadth ; made of ebony, covered with 
plates of pure gold, and set with precious stones of 
immense value. Every prince of the house of Bha- 
manee, who possessed thi::^ throne, made a point of 
adding to it some rich stones, so that when in the 
. eign of Sultan Mamood it was taken to pieces, to 
remove some of the jewels to be set in vases and 
cups, the jewellers valued it at one croreof oons. 
(nearly four millions sterling.) I learned also that ii 
was called Firozeh from being partly enamelled o< 
'. sky-blue colour, which was in time totally con 
ealed by tlie number of jewels/' — Ferishia^ 




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